Harry Potter and the Awakening Power
by darkpheonix31
Summary: Canon to OOTP- Yr 6 AU. Harry struggles to take up the role that he needs to play in the escalating war. Will the Order continue to see him a child they need to protect or the leader that they need him to be? When circumstances force Harry to spend part of the summer with with his two least favorite people, it sets of a spiral of events and nothing is the same. HARRY mentors SNAPE
1. Acceptance is the Final Stage of Grief

_A/N: Longer summary at the bottom of his chapter for those wondering if this story is worth their time._

 _Warnings: Swearing and select adult situations, non-graphic in nature. Also in (much) later chapters there will be mention of a non-graphic rape of a female character. Nothing explicit will be described_

 _Disclaimer: All characters and plot lines relating to Harry Potter are property of J.K. Rowling. This story is based on the magical world that she created, and I am immensely grateful for her imagination because I certainly don't have one to match_

 **Harry Potter and Awakening Power**

 **Chapter 1: Acceptance is the Final Stage of Grief**

 _Jets of light lit up the dark space. He was running. Running as fast as he could and barely moving at all. He was the in the Department of Mysteries. Shouts and screams were heard but Harry's attention was captured on the raised dais. Slowly and with more grace than he had ever previously seemed to possess- Sirius Black fell. That once-handsome face frozen with a look of surprise as realization of what was about to come dawned on his godfather. Fear flooded Harry as he pushed and he pulled himself forward. Something was holding him back. He needed to get there. He needed to get to Sirius. He couldn't do it, it was too hard, he wouldn't get there in time..._

 _And suddenly he had made it. The curtain of the veil fluttered invitingly and Harry ran through as if he were a drowning man who had finally reached the surface. The dark expanse he had expected gave way to a bright sky. There was green, lush grass and cool sparkling water. It was a lake. A small family sat beside it and Harry did not think that he had ever seen a more beautiful place or a happier group of people. It was the single loveliest place that he had ever been. Peaceful and content for the first time in ages, Harry never wanted to leave. It was a moment before he even realized that he knew the people by the lake. It was Lily and James Potter, and beside them a small child, no more than a toddler. It was himself._

 _Another person might have been confused but, instinctively, Harry understood. When we lose the people that we love a small- and at times barely noticeable- part of ourselves inevitably dies with them. He was seeing that piece of himself that he had been unable to recover until this moment- the piece of himself that had kept him from being fully whole. In the real world those missing pieces are painful and filled with bitter longing but here, the small family was nothing but content._

 _A tall, dark man approached James with a delighted but confused smile and Harry groaned with longing. It was Sirius. Harry was startled to see that Sirius was looking better than he had ever seen him in life. He had aged from the man in his parents wedding photo- but aged well. The haunting sadness that Harry had always seen in his eyes seemed to be lightening. His face was still lined but it seemed as if moment by moment all of the pain that he had suffered was slowly been lifted from his shoulders. He was gazing at his long-deceased friend with a look of elation, happier than Harry had ever seen the man in life with the sole exception of that brief moment in time when the two of them had believed that Sirius would go free and Harry would be live with him. Despite the pure pleasure in his expression, Harry could still see that the older man did not quite understand what was happening._

" _Nice to see all of you again, Padfoot," James greeted his old friend with a warm smile. "I'm sorry that you've missed me all this time, but I hope that you realize now that you never missed anything here."_

 _Sirius embraced James like a brother, tears leaking out of his eyes a bit before he finally pulled back and tilted his head in confusion, "I don't know what you mean, James. What do you mean_ _ **all**_ _of me? You act like I've been here all along. How is that possible?"_

 _James smiled, unlike his friend his eyes were dry. There was no conflict of emotions on his face. While Sirius appeared overwhelmed to be found in this new place, with his friend once more, James was calm and content. He shook his head and smiled as though it should have been obvious. "You're family, Sirius. A part of you was always with me. You must have known that I never left you all those years. The ones that love us never do, so why did you think for a minute that you ever left me?"_

 _Sirius hugged him once more but Harry could already see an approaching serenity to Sirius. The same peacefulness that seemed to exude from James, and Harry rather thought that the longer one was here in this place that must be something like heaven, the more content you became. Harry watched as the years seemed to fall off of Sirius, leaving him handsome once more. For the first time Harry could see the man Sirius should have been if he had been allowed to lead a peaceful, happy life. Harry was frozen, staring at the two men in a combination of shock and longing- almost convinced that neither of them could see him. Until they turned to greet him._

" _Harry!" James yelled, while he had greeted his oldest friend with the quiet happiness you might expect when you knew you had ages to catch up with an old friend after a long separation, he greeted his son with boyish excitement. Despite the man's obvious joy at seeing Harry, he made no move to come closer. "I love you so much, son. I have watched you. Every day I have watched you and I am so proud of the person that you've become."_

 _Harry swallowed. He wanted to say something. He wanted to move and hug his father for the first time in his… was he dead? He wasn't sure and at the moment he certainly didn't care. He was with his father and his mother…_

 _Lily's eyes were bright with unshed tears and she was staring at him with a hungry, desperate look, as though she could never look at him long enough. "You are such a kind person, Harry," his mother's voice was soft and gentle and so very warm. So different from her sister, who spoke with a shrill coldness. Her smile was bright and warm and it seemed to Harry that nothing in the world made her happier than seeing him in this moment. "You have rarely been shown or been given kindness but I see you offer it at every turn. One day I hope you realize how extraordinary that is."_

 _Harry blushed, his father was proud of him. He had said it. No one had ever said that they were proud of him before. His mother had said that he was a kind person. They thought the best of him. But…there were times that he wasn't. The idea that his parents had seen everything. Every bout of anger, every lie he had told. He could hardly believe that they were standing before him with anything like pride in their eyes._

 _James gazed at him, his eyes serious and thoughtful. Harry suspected that the man knew exactly what he was thinking. When he spoke his voice was quiet but it was filled with understanding and patience. "We never expected you to be perfect, Harry, and quite honestly I think I would have found you quite boring if you were. Life's excitements come from our mistakes. From our regrets. I know regret can be a painful thing but no full life is complete without it. So, no Harry, you have not led a perfect life. But…you have led a good one. And most importantly, you care about people Harry. You protect them," he grinned at that. "If there was only one lesson that I was able to pass on to you in life before I died, I'm glad it was that."_

 _ **Lily it's him! Take Harry and run…**_

 _The only memory Harry truly had of his father was of his death. Of his incredible sacrifice._

 _Tears were spilling down Harry's face but he was unashamed. Once again he wanted to move forward and embrace them. Feel them in a real and physical way for the first time but he couldn't. And this time he finally realized that it was not due to shock that he had not moved, but because he was physically unable to take a step forward._

 _Before he could question this development Sirius spoke and his words diverted Harry's attention thoroughly, "You're the best man that I know Harry, and believe me when I tell you that until I met you I thought that title had already been sewn up," his face sober and honest, his eyes flicked to James at the last comment but came back to him with pride. "I just wish that I had been a better godfather."_

" _You were the best-" Harry protested._

 _For the first time sadness graced Sirius' features, making him look closer to the Sirius he had known in life, "you give me too much credit." Harry shook his head, Sirius could never fully understand what it was that he had represented in Harry's life. He had filled a role that Harry had desperately needed. A role that would never be filled again._

 _But now…now it wouldn't have to be filled, would it? They were here, and they were together, and it was the most perfect place that he had ever seen._

" _Harry you can't stay here," James said quietly, but with conviction._

" _But…why?"_

" _You don't belong here," his mother agreed._

" _You mean a place that's bloody perfect? Where we're all happy and…and together?!" Harry yelled out, he was angry. It was unfair. Unfair that life was so hard but here…_

" _Life is a journey Harry and yours is far from over," Lily explained._

" _You were so young when you died, all of you," Harry said quietly, looking at Sirius. The man had only been 36- it was strange but Harry had never given much thought to Sirius' age before. As a friend of his parents it had always seemed as though he was old enough, but now it seemed incredibly cruel to be sent to prison before his life had barely started and killed before he reached the age of 40. For the first time his godfather seemed absurdly young._

 _Lily shook her head, "death is never fair and our time was short but it_ was _over. Yours is not."_

" _What if I don't want to…" Harry couldn't say it. He couldn't finish the thought that if it meant staying in this perfect place, with his family, maybe didn't want to live anymore. James smiled at him and it was at once sad and proud. "Because you do, Harry. I have watched you, my son. I have watched in awe of you as you have done the impossible again and again. I've watched you kill basilisks and battle dragons. I've watched you get embarrassed by the press and serve detention. I've watched you make friends and," James grin, "go on terrible dates," Harry winced, there were a few things a boy never wanted his parents to know about after all. "I've watched you win and I've watched you fail and in the end there is only one thing that you have never been able to do. It's the reason I'm most proud of you. Over and over again I would wait for it happen. Dreading it, expecting, and anticipating it…sometimes really wanting it. Wanting you to let go of all of that pain. I would wait because if it had been anyone else they would have done it by now, would have done it a long time ago probably, but you never could Harry." James paused and fixed Harry with a look of such furious pride that Harry felt his cheek's heat up with suppressed emotion. No one in his life had ever looked at him like that, and he had no idea what his father was talking about. James took a breath and seemed to back up for a moment._

" _The first time the Dursleys locked you in that damn cupboard or sent you to bed without a meal. That first time Vernon hit you or the time that teacher blamed you the next day for fighting with the other boys when she saw your bruises…or better yet when she told you off for lying when you told her the truth and she didn't believe you and you refused to back down. You were forced to stay after school every day for a week but your story never changed. Your first year at Hogwarts. This whole past year against Umbridge- you_ _ **never**_ _did it Harry and the idea never even crossed your mind."_

" _I don't…what are you talking about?" Harry asked, thoroughly confused. He could not see how any of those things related to one another. And at the same time, he was overwhelmed. His father HAD watched him. EVERY. SINGLE. DAY._

" _Give up, Harry," Lily answered quietly but with a wide smile. "You never, ever give up."_

 _Harry frowned at what his parents were suggesting. "You mean you expected me to…what off myself?" he said uncertainly._

 _His father smiled sadly. "No. I never expected you to go quite that far. Or at least I certainly hoped you never would. Although there were times when another might have done just that. But Harry you have to understand that there are so many ways a person can give up. They give up on their life, they close off their spirit, or they can give in to something that they don't want or believe in just to make things easier, even when they know it's not right. You could have toed the line last year. Any time you wanted you could have rolled over for Umbridge, or just called a bloody press conference and told the lot of them you had made it all up after all, and that Voldemort hadn't come back."_

" _But he did come back!" Harry argued._

 _James grinned and Sirius snorted with laughter. "That's my point Harry. You keep fighting for the right thing, even when it's hard, even when it feels like you're all alone. Umbridge never realized what she was really doing with you. She picked the wrong message. She told you to write 'I must not tell lies'- but that was engraved far more deeply in your heart than it could ever be on your hand."_

" _You trust yourself and you trust your instincts even when everyone tells you not to," Sirius added with his own look of pride in his eyes._

" _You look for the good in people even when so many people have hurt you," James added again._

" _You're so strong Harry and now I need you to be stronger than you've ever been before," Lily told him quietly, tears leaking silently down her face._

 _Harry swallowed, with the exception of Sirius' death it had been the only other thing he had been able to think about for days on end. "I have to…you mean the prophesy." He couldn't stay here, he had been impossibly selfish even to consider it. The prophesy made it impossible for him do anything other than continue his fight against Voldemort._

 _James cut across him quickly, his expression more urgent. "Harry, you need to ask yourself if this is your fight."_

" _But-" How could this not be his fight?_

" _I'm saying you ask yourself what you_ _ **want**_ _to do. I have never known you to make a selfish or wrong decision when it's truly counted."_

" _I went to the Ministry," Harry mumbled, his eyes glued to the ground, unable to look Sirius in the face. But Sirius was quick to interject, "You went with the information you had at the time. And for the record, I'm damn proud of you kid. A lot of the Order was against telling you what was going on, Dumbledore most of all unless you count Molly Weasley. Now I'm not telling you that you should hold anything against them, Harry, because they wanted what's best for you. But honestly, I disagreed with them from the start. You're a smart kid, and a curious one, any pain caused by knowing the truth might have given you wasn't half as bad as being made to wonder. If anything I blame them- but not you Harry. Never you. If you had known about that prophesy, hell if they had just had you go collect the damn thing yourself from the start, Voldemort never would have been able to trick you. You did what you thought was right- and I will always admire that about you, kiddo."_

 _James picked up the words next, "You made a mistake. Don't forget it. Learn from it. My son, it's time to let you in on an age old Potter family secret, one that we jealously hide from everyone else:_ we are not perfect _. Shocking I know, I was quite flabbergasted when I found out as well." Lily slapped his arm but she was smiling at him with fondness. Sirius gave his usual bark of laughter, a sound Harry thought he would never hear again. "He was more like shell-shocked if I remember."_

 _James smiled with genuine humility this time, "We all have faults and I think I've been dead long enough to admit that one of mine was arrogance. Harry, you need to decide for yourself what yours are. Others will try and tell you, but we only really grow when we recognize these flaws ourselves. And then you need to decide for yourself how to handle those flaws. Do you try to get rid of them entirely or do you try and embrace them and use them. You have proven to us time and again that you are a man to be proud of- I'm only sorry that you had to become a man so young."_

 _Lily took a step closer to him but was still out of touch, her eyes were filled with pure love. "I'm so proud of you Harry and I love you so much more than you could ever imagine. Remember Harry one day we will all be together but your life is so much more than you can believe."_

" _Live your life Harry. Not as a tribute or an obligation to us or to anyone else. Enjoy it Harry- we sure as hell did," Sirius said, finishing with his famous bark-like laugh._

 _Harry nodded, "I love you," whispering the words aloud to someone for the first time in his life. And before he could be tempted to stay another moment, he turned and walked once again through the curtain of the veil._ He woke up at Privet Drive covered in sweat, trembling slightly and gasping for air. Long ingrained habit kept him from doing any of this too loudly as his uncle never enjoyed being woken in the middle of the night and over the years Harry had learned to keep all but the most violent of nightmares quiet.

It was early but the sun was just starting to peak over the horizon. Harry sat up, his heart and mind racing from the… was it a dream? Harry was no stranger to odd occurrences but he had never experienced anything quite like that. It had been so real. Even now the details were as vibrant as if he had really been there. He had been dreaming about Sirius falling through the veil every single night since his godfather's death but never before had he actually made it through the divider between life and death himself. He had always been pulled back and then woken to the image of the startled shock on Sirius' face, forever ingrained in his memory, and then left to imagine the horror of his death on the other side. Had it been painful? Had he had time to be scared? There had been other dreams too, ones where Sirius had come back through the veil to blame him for his carelessness.

This was by no means an ordinary dream. Harry wasn't sure what to make of his parents and godfather's words. Was it merely his subconscious? He didn't think so. He had never once dreamed of his parents giving him advice before and somehow the idea of his own inner voice speaking through Sirius telling him not to blame himself didn't seem right either. He had begun to make his own tentative peace with his decisions to go the Ministry but his own mind would not have been presumptuous enough to speak for Sirius on the matter.

As crazy as it might sound, Harry knew that this was not merely a dream- it was something more. Although what it actually was, Harry did not know. Somehow he had spoken with his parents and Sirius and for once Harry did not question how it had happened. He also knew as surely that the dream was real that he would never tell anyone about it. It was both too strange and too personal. Instead his mind dwelt on one very specific thing his father had said to him. "You never give up." A couple of weeks ago Harry would have proudly agreed with that statement but since Sirius' death so much had seemed not to matter. He looked around his small shabby bedroom in distaste. He had thrown books, clothes and wrappers about haphazardly. He hadn't even bothered to change clothes in the past two days _._ He had eaten little and slept even less.

Although, Harry realized as he climbed out of bed, last night had been different. After a solid two and half weeks of getting little more than two or three hours of sleep of night, his body had finally rebelled. The night before he had passed out right after dinner and, incredibly, slept through the night. As he glanced at the clock-4:48- he realized that he had had close to 10 hours of rest.

He felt better. Refreshed. And for the first time since his return to Little Whinging he set about doing something other than aimless shuffling or staring at his own bedroom walls. He started with tidying his room. He collected the dirty clothes into the hamper, the trash in the bin and used some rags to wipe up the dust. He organized the papers and books on his desk and cleaned out Hedwig's cage thoroughly. The headlines were splashed with speculation about 'You-Know-Who', as well as a current predominating theory that Harry was something the Prophet kept calling 'The Chosen One'. After news of the battle at the Ministry as well as the revelation that it had all occurred in the Hall of Prophesy, the rumor mill of the Wizarding World had been busy connecting the dots- and Harry was afraid to say that for once the crazy theories were scarily accurate. Although no real details of the prophesy had been released in the paper, the general idea of it was certainly discussed- namely the fact that it was Harry that was the one that could defeat Voldemort.

This, of course, had led to rabid opinions on what should be done. Some wizards- particularly the Purebloods from the sound of it- objected to the fact that they all seemed to be placing their fate into the hands of not only a Hogwarts students that had yet to receive his OWL results, but a Half-blood at that.

Others seemed to think that Harry should be made to leave Hogwarts both for the safety of the other students and so that the Ministry could provide proper training for him in the 'evitable battle to come'. There was also a small but strangely vocal contingent that maintained that, with the backing of the prophesy, Harry already possessed the ability to defeat his dark opponent and that the Wizarding World as a whole should be catering to his ideas and strategies. A few of the fanatics of this group were even calling for him to be named an official advisor of the Minister of Magic- if not Minister himself.

Harry wasn't sure which theory he found more annoying but he was certain which one he found the most ridiculous. Consumed as he had been with his grief and guilt Harry had given surprisingly little thought to the articles but as he moved around the room, his brain seemed to kick back into motion for the first time. Depending on how the dust settled, he could be in a rather difficult position in the upcoming year. Now that the Ministry had been forced to acknowledge that he had in fact not been lying or delusional in his claims of Voldemort's return, they had recently become his biggest supporters. Shouting their praise for his courage in the past year, claiming to be grateful for the forgiveness that Harry had shown the Ministry that, oddly, Harry had no memory of actually giving. However, Harry had now had enough experience with the Ministry to know that this behavior would not last. Sooner or later the Ministry would make a move. He didn't know if it was going to be against him, or if they would try to gain control over him in some way but in those early morning hours as he listened to Dudley's arrhythmic snores as the dawn lightened into day, he knew that he needed to be prepare himself for an almost evitable confrontation at some point.

Despite the smallness of the room, it took quite a while to get everything in order. The room was even more cluttered than usual because the Dursleys had taken to using it once again as 'Dudley's Second Bedroom'. Dudley had progressed in the field of boxing, becoming an interschool champion. Scouts from University had even been coming to see him and seeing as Dudley had next to no chance of being accepted on his academics, Petunia and Vernon were thrilled that he was an 'athlete'. Harry's already tiny bedroom was now even more crowded with a treadmill and a punching bag. Dudley came in for about two hours a day to exercise, his expression growing darker at the growing mess of the room. Strangely Dudley had said nothing, even as the stale air in the room had begun to grow musty. Dudley would knock on the door and Harry would obediently leave for the duration of his workout, finding it too much effort to argue unnecessarily. In fact lately Harry had found that he could pass whole days without uttering a single word to the Dursleys. He was enjoying the quiet.

Now the room was fresher and the fact that the bed was actually made up, made the room look slightly less claustrophobic. It had taken longer than Harry had thought it would, as much due to his unusual thoroughness as it was to the size of the mess. But as Harry finished almost two hours later he realized that for the first time in as many days he was actually hungry. And it was with this thought in mind he made the decision to do something he had never done before- willingly volunteer to make breakfast for himself and the Dursleys. And after that… well it was time that Harry earned the respect his parents had seemed to have for him in his 'dream'. He was not going to give up, and for once he was even going to be prepared.

It was a new day and for the first time in ages, Harry was looking forward to it.

 **Extended Author's Note:**

 **I promise long author notes are going to be common as I know many find them annoying but I figured I would give everyone an idea of what to expect so that you can decide if this a story you want to invest your time in because the outline of it is rather long.**

 **This story takes place during Harry's 6** **th** **year and the summer preceding it. It will feature a strong and rather independent Harry but with an attempt to keep the character as canon as possible. He will not be super-powered magically nor will he suddenly have all the right answers or develop never seen before genius. I intend to make him focused on fulfilling the prophesy but he will make mistakes, be a teenager and perhaps fall in love a time or two.**

 **The main plot will follow two different but intersecting threads. Harry balancing his life as a normal teenager with his friends and school and Harry stepping into a larger role in the war than was shown in HBP. There will also be a developing relationship with Snape.** _ **However**_ **\- this is not a story about how Snape is really a nice guy or Draco has been a secret good guy along. This story is honestly a bit of flip on the general "Snape mentors Harry" trope which I find flawed on a rather fundamental level, despite some really well written stories about it. Snape is a great character, but pretty much a terrible person. He's so emotionally stunted that he basically a perpetual adolescent that has spent years bullying 11 year olds because he is still not over a grudge he holds against two dead men. The apparently widely belief that Harry would benefit from Snape's guidance (and in many cases Dumbledore and the rest of the Hogwarts staff go to rather outrageous lengths to orchestrate this relationship) is actually rather disturbing to me. As is the idea that Harry should forgive everything Snape has ever done or said the minute Snape first calls him by his first name in a story. At 16 I find Harry to be a more reasonable and not to mention a compassionate and better adjusted person than Severus ever manages to be and I wanted to write a story in which it Snape that benefits from Harry's 'guidance' so to speak rather than the other way around. That is not to say that Harry will have all of the answers, nor will be at all gracious when it comes to dealing with Snape. I want the relationship to be a slow burn- both sides pretty much hate each other and both are notoriously stubborn. Needless to say this far from a Snape adopts Harry story.**

 **Love interests: He's sixteen so a girlfriend does not necessarily mean that it will end up happily ever after. I want Harry to date around, experience the perils of first love and find it again- but there won't be multiple relationships at one time and No Slash.**

 *****This is the first story I'm posting up so I would appreciate advice or criticism but please be respectful and keep in mind that I'm crier ;)**


	2. Bringing the Meeting to Order

**Chapter Two: Bringing the Meeting to Order**

 **Interlude I: McGonagall**

Minerva McGonagall took a seat in the comfortable armchair by the fire with a slight sigh of relief. She had been running errands for the past several hours and although she was almost entirely recovered from the attack by the Ministry officials, now almost three weeks previous, she had to admit that she was tired. Lately, she was sorry to say, she had been feeling her age, and not all for physical reasons. There were many new faces present in the meeting today. In the last weeks, ever since Voldemort had made his first public appearance, the urgency of the war had been brought to everyone's attention. The _Daily Prophet_ had been running constant articles, stirring the public into a near frenzy. This had led to an increase in their membership and so many of them were her recent students. Students that had grown- up thinking that they were safe. Students that were too young to even remember the First War. As the older members recounted stories from battles past, the younger ones listened to names of people they had never met. People that had died only a few years older than some of them were now. Some of them dead younger than people like Bill and Charlie Weasley were at the moment. This made her feel impossibly old.

Twenty-year-olds suddenly seemed so much younger to her now than they had when she was in her 30s or even 40s. Minerva didn't know if she should feel sad that the war was gearing up yet again, or angry- but mostly she felt very tired.

The living room of the Burrow was still filling up but the meeting was not due to start for another quarter of an hour. For the moment, the feeling in the room was casual and friendly- acquaintances and friends catching up. Introductions were being made between new and older members. Ministry gossip was being exchanged against news of the conditions in Diagon Alley- which had seen a significant drop in customers in the past month. The Aurors among them were feeling overwhelmed, long hours were expected by all that worked for the Ministry these days and the recent attacks from the Death Eaters had led to several disappearances and strange events. Until the early hours of that morning there had at least been some comfort that there had been no large scale attacks or causalities... but they had known it was only a matter of time.

The volume in the room was increasing. Minerva could hear Ginny Weasley arguing with her mother about having to stay upstairs in her own house, arguing that after the events at the Ministry she and her brother should be more informed. This was a rather peculiar argument, in Minerva's opinion, given that that the two of them should never have been involved in that situation in the first place, but now seemed to want to be rewarded for it. And yet perhaps she truly was going senile because in spite of her better judgement there was a part of her that agreed with her young student. Or at least when it came to Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger and especially Mr. Potter. Those three students had somehow involved themselves in every single crisis the school had seen in the last five years. Given that the three of them were almost guaranteed to find their own warped answers- and were apparently spreading their influence outwards- a degree of information might not be the worst idea.

However, Minerva did not voice these thoughts aloud, she barely acknowledged them herself. War was no place for children- the older people in the room had learned that lesson the hard way but Minerva was not foolish enough to think that the teenagers would be satisfied with being told that they would regret learning things that could never be unlearned. Nearly forty years as a teacher had taught her that there were some lessons that could be lectured, there were some that worked better with a demonstration, but the best lessons- the most important ones- needed to be learned through experience. In this case it was certainly bound to be painful experience. The fact that some lessons are better off being delayed as long as possible was sadly something that could not always be controlled.

Molly Weasley won her latest battle and the noise level increased once again as more people clamored in through the fireplace and walked in from the apparition point. While everyone appeared on the surface to be calm and cheerful, there was an undercurrent of tension in the room that everyone was well aware of, however, everyone carefully avoiding speaking of it until the start of the meeting.

Voldemort had unleashed his first large scale attack the night before.

The Brockdale Bridge had collapsed during something the muggles called 'rush hour' and the causalities had been unusually high. At the same time, several wizarding families had been attacked, terrorized and some of them killed- Minerva had learned long ago that the Death Eaters never killed everyone in an attack for there was nothing better than survivors to spread horrifying tales. FEAR was their most effective tool, and they used it well. The horrible, crippling fear that they had all known nearly 15 years ago had come back and it was more intense than ever. There had been so many witches and wizards that had not dared to openly defy the so-called 'Dark Lord' and his minions due to fear of what would have to themselves and their families. Rather than have the memories of horror mute over time, they seemed only more powerful. And the worst part of it all was that the Wizarding World suddenly felt so very unprepared.

Minerva, like many others, had believed that Voldemort had been gone forever. When James and Lily had died, the only consolation had been that there was an end to the war and the horror and fear that Voldemort inspired in everyone around him. Now, as Minerva gazed around the room, 15 years had passed and somehow it seemed as though nothing had really changed. A generation ago she had watched people like James Potter, Sirius Black and Lily Evans join the Order with confidence and determination. Fresh out of Hogwarts, they had been among the youngest of the Order but that did not stop any of them from being a strong threat to You-Know-Who. Strong fighters that worked well in a unit and could be an almost unstoppable force when fighting together against Death Eaters. Minerva had been shocked but ultimately relieved to learn that she had been wrong about Sirius. All three had met a tragic end and she couldn't help mourn not only the loss of such talent in the world but also the loss of the laughter they had been able to bring to others.

With no children of her own, Minerva reserved a special place in her heart for all of her students- especially her Gryffindors. She celebrated their accomplishments as they found careers, got married, started families. And she despaired for their losses. The ones that had been killed, the ones she had lost to fear when some had become Death Eaters themselves. She had seen so many lost futures.

She had seen Marlene McKinnon join them with resolve but stout fear. She had been such a sweet girl. She had been training to be a Healer, she was killed before she ever finished her final courses.

She had seen Alice Longbottom, a few years older, already an Auror, have the courage to fight against not only the Death Eaters but her own boss from the Ministry who had been Imperized. When the battle had turned too violent for half-measures she had been forced to kill a man that she had considered a mentor. Minerva wondered at times when the Longbottoms had been tortured into insanity if the strain of the war and the things they had done to protect the world had contributed to the fracturing of their minds just as much as the torture they had endured.

Now there were new young people Fred and George Weasley were attending their first meeting and though they were hardly the first wizards to join right out of Hogwarts, they still seemed too young for a war.

In fact, Minerva was very unsure how she felt about the presence of the Weasley Twins. On the one hand she had rarely had more gifted students, on the other hand- she had rarely seen two people more immature. Even Sirius and James had been forced to grow up in their last couple of years at Hogwarts as the war had escalated. They had seen things that no young person should see and it had changed them from fool-hardy troublemakers into courageous and competent fighters. James especially had grown up into such a strong and confident man, a man that could be admired for the love and sacrifice that he was willing to give to those that he loved.

It had been quite a while since Minerva had allowed her thoughts to drift to James Potter. Despite his looks and occasional mannerisms- Harry Potter was very different from his father in most ways. Oddly, for a boy who had no memory of them, there were moments that Harry represented the very best of both his parents, and yet at the same time seemed to lack the confidence that both had possessed so flawlessly.

James had entered Hogwarts as an overly arrogant, creatively destructive, bully. He considered any moment when he was not causing chaos and mayhem a wasted moment and there was nothing the boy had enjoyed more than receiving credit- good or bad- for his 'accomplishments'. Detentions never fazed him, scoldings rolled of him as though you were shouting at a brick wall. Minerva was embarrassed to admit to herself that part of the reason she had been so quick to dismiss Harry's claims about the Philosopher's Stone in the boy's First Year had been because she had assumed that he was up to the same mischief as his father. She had assumed the same only weeks prior when she had caught him out of bounds, after curfew. She remembered Longbottom and Malfoy telling her a story about a dragon that she had dismissed as patently ridiculous. She could easily see James Potter lying to try and get Severus Snape in trouble, nor would he have minded if another student had fallen for the trick and gotten caught in the crosshairs and she had assumed Harry had felt the same. As Head of Gryffindor she had learned to hunt out mischief and troublemaking with the ferocity of a bloodhound and while she had certainly exaggerated the likelihood of being caught out after curfew to the 3 First Years that she had hoped to intimidate, she had never believed for a moment that an actual dragon could have been involved.

In the intervening years, she had wondered from time to time if the story had in fact been true. Potter had a way of attracting particularly absurd events. The fact that Hermione Granger had also been involved led to the idea that it was not idle mischief, combined with the fact that to the best of her knowledge, Harry was never the one to instigate a row with the Malfoy boy. The truth was, Harry had a special knack for being both better behaved and causing even more trouble than his father.

Still, James had always been a secret favorite of hers. A gifted pupil in Transfiguration, he had possessed one of the most brilliantly creative minds she had ever encountered. Even when he had been at his most troublesome Minerva had always had a soft spot for the confident Chaser. He cared deeply for his friends and his family and had the confidence of a boy that had never doubted for an instant that his affection was not returned with fervor from both. Of course much of that came from the fact that he had no reason to worry- James had doting parents and was the type of person to inspire both admiration and loyalty from those around him.

Watching him grow into the responsible, caring family man- a man that had quite literally laid down his life for his wife and child- had been one of her proudest moments as a teacher in her nearly 40 year career.

Lily Potter had been a passionate person. She loved fiercely and was unconditional in her beliefs of right and wrong. Minerva had been reminded of her many times the past school year as she learned, to her ever growing frustration, of the many detentions her son had received for continuing to bait Dolores Umbridge. James was the one that usually flouted the rules, but it was Lily that would have suffered unjust punishment for a cause that she believed in. Minerva had once told her, as a young woman fresh out of Hogwarts and determined to fight in the Order even after she had just been attacked for the first time by Voldemort himself, that there was a time to press forward and a time to hold back and wait for the right time.

Minerva would never forget the response, her former student had squared her shoulders and narrowed her blazing green eyes in determination before saying, " _if you're doing the right thing, you should never back down. If you're going to wait for the 'right time' to act, you never will. We need to stand up and fight because the minute we wait for an opening that might never come, or wait for someone else to do it for us, we've already lost. And Professor, I would rather die knowing that I fought as hard as I could, than live telling myself that I'm just waiting for the right moment."_

Of course Lily's greatest strength could also be her greatest flaw.

She was incredibly stubborn and at times even unforgiving. At some point in her later years at Hogwarts she had decided that Severus Snape- a boy that had once been her best friend- was irredeemable and she had ended the friendship. Minerva had never learned the exact details of the final fight between the two but from that moment on, as far as Minerva was aware, she had never looked back. Minerva didn't blame her for the decision, Severus had taken a dark path through the final years of Lily's life. Lily had seen what he was doing and could not stand by and pretend that she approved, and it had never been her responsibility to save someone from their own bad decisions.

Still, Minerva wondered what could have happened if Lily had been willing to give the boy another chance. If she had reached out just a little bit more. If there had been one person in the world that had had a chance of convincing Severus to have never taken the Dark Mark in the first place- it had been Lily Evans, of that Minerva had no doubt. She had heard, years later, that Severus had gone so far as to beg Lily for forgiveness and she had refused him. Lily had been a good person, but a stubborn one in her ethics. Minerva wondered what Harry would do if it came down to forgiving someone who had wronged him, or betrayed him. She honestly couldn't say.

"If I could have your attention please, I believe we can get started," Albus announced, jerking Minerva out of her silent contemplation. She could see that the Headmaster was looking tired and was sure that he had been working since the early hours of the morning. Now that the Ministry was finally admitting that Voldemort was back, they suddenly couldn't get enough from the man that they had painted as senile and power-hungry for the past year. The hypocrisy that Cornelius was engaged in, she believed, was entirely lost on him.

"The Ministry has already dealt with the muggles involved with the events of his morning and I'm told that there are plans in place to update their government on the situation as well as the Ministry's plans going forward from here. So for those of you that were worried about our role in the day's events, know that they are being handled," Albus explained with only the faintest suggestion in tone that the Ministry might not be as capable as they believed themselves to be in these matters.

" _How_ is it being handled?" Alastor Moody pressed.

Albus' expression was grim, "quickly. Or perhaps the more appropriate word is hastily. Cornelius knows he has made catastrophic mistakes and is scrambling to correct them."

"I heard rumors about a call for a no-confidence vote, is it true?" Hestia Jones asked.

"There's been talk but Cornelius has spent a long time building an administration that supports him and his party rather than the wizards of Britain. I would not be surprised if he is able to maintain power- at least in the short term."

"Public opinion never did matter as much as what the richest people want..." Hestia Jones muttered bitterly.

"Which explains some of the more unusual arrests," Emmeline Vance remarked critically, her brow raised at a few of the Aurors in the room.

"All of those arrests have been made with due suspicion," Aurora Tackley, a Senior Auror who had been involved with some of the arrests herself, was quick to refute. Aurora, a small but solidly built witch that did not look her advancing years, had been in charge of training young recruits into the Aurors for the past 20 years and took the actions of her people seriously. A criticism on them was a personal attack on her own methods in her mind and she was not a woman that responded well to people seconding guessing her.

"I rather zhink that es the point of dear Emmeline's concern, suspicion es not evidence," Fleur argued, surprising quite a few people with her forthrightness, she was not known for speaking out of turn during the meetings.

"The Ministry has to be seen to be doing something. It might not be… pleasant but the truth of the matter is, a public panic can cause more harm than the Death Eaters if we're not careful," Aurora argued, her voice carried a hint of condescension. She happened to have more years of experience at fighting and catching Dark Wizards than Fleur had been alive and it obviously rankled for her to be contradicted.

"Perhaps the Ministry should be less concerned with its image and more concerned with actually getting the job done. Right now they're more concerned with grabbing the right headlines than taking any real measures to stop this war from escalating!" Emmeline argued, her face growing red with her anger.

"It's not laziness Emmeline, they don't know what to do. They have no idea how to stop Voldemort so their philosophy for the moment is 'better something than nothing', which I suppose is marginally better than last year's attitude is 'see no evil, hear no evil and all is right with the world!" Bill Weasley chimed in, looking rather disgusted himself.

"And I suppose a boy that barely remembers the First War and has no experience fighting against Dark Wizards is just simply full of advice?" Aurora asked Bill pointedly. She was a staunch defender of both the Ministry and protocol. She had little patience for innovation or youthful arrogance, and that was not simply because she was starting to get up in years- Aurora had been a Third Year when Minerva had been Head Girl and Minerva knew from experience that she had been one of those children that was born old. Thirteen going on 40 back then, much like Hermione Granger had been but unlike Miss Granger, Aurora Tackley had never managed to find the right friends in her youth to balance out her rather…intense characteristics.

"I don't think conducting actual investigations is suggesting anything particularly radical," Bill answered acidly, his eyes narrowing in growing anger. "If it is, than I would say that the Ministry could use my advice."

"That es right Bill! What es the Ministry zinking? Zhey should be ashamed of zhemselves," Fluer declared, glaring at the older woman with fury.

"The Ministry has a way of conducting business that has worked for a long time," Molly cut in.

"Yes but that's the point that's being made, has it worked?" Fred Weasley spoke up, with an uncharacteristically serious expression that surprised Minerva. She had never seen either of the twins offer an opinion that didn't have to do with a prank of some kind. "George and I were talking to Harry last year before we… left," he shot a glance at his mother who raised an eyebrow of disapproval but apparently was not going to lecture her sons on their dramatic exit at the moment. "The thing is, a huge part of the problem that we have now is that things after the First War were handled so badly."

"Badly?" Hestia Jones asked as several others looked around in surprise. "Things were confusing for a bit after Voldemort was destroyed... incapacitated... whatever you want to call it, but in the coming months dozens of Death Eaters were arrested. Everything went back to normal."

"Right," George answered shaking his head, "except that dozens of Death Eaters got off free and clear without even a decent trial. Lucius Malfoy got off by claiming the Imperious Curse, along with a bunch of others. According to Harry, all Kararoff had to do was name names and he got off scot-free."

"They let him run a school full of kids for Merlin's sake," Fred muttered.

"Meanwhile, Sirius was never given a trial and was sentenced to life for something he didn't do, if it happened to him, chances are it happened to other people. Why weren't the suspects given Veritaserum? Why wasn't everyone given a fair trial?" George asked

"They could have use pensieve memories both from the accused and the victims and witnesses," Fred added.

Aurora blinked, before a scowl crossed her features, "that has never been used in the past and memories can be altered."

"True although usually not without some evidence of being tampered with," Albus commented thoughtfully. "Mr. Weasley, were these ideas yours or Mr. Potter's?"

The twins looked at one another before shrugging a bit, "a bit of both actually, Professor. We were just talking one night… Harry was upset that Sirius was locked up at Grimmauld Place when everyone knew that he hated it so much and…"

George picked up where his twin had trailed off, uncharacteristically uncertain of speaking in front of everyone, "we started talking about how wrong it was for the Ministry to be hunting down Sirius when You-Know-Who was running around without a target on his back and Fred and I realized just how messed up the Ministry really is."

"It's because people like Malfoy and his pals bribed their way out, just like they were bribing Fudge all last year. Harry even told us that he saw Malfoy handing Fudge something after his trial last summer," Fred answered seamlessly. Obviously these were questions the two of them had discussed before.

"Mr. Potter certainly seems to have a lot to say about the Ministry," Aurora commented with distaste.

The rest of the Order was looking thoughtful, the twins had raised important questions, things that should have been addressed after the First War and had been ignored and suddenly Minerva felt a bit renewed. She had forgotten the other side to having younger faces in the Order. While she hated the fact that teens barely out of school would have to fight in a war, it was refreshing to get a new perspective on things. After all these years she was still surprised and yet delighted when her students came to a solution that had eluded her.

"Yeah well, last year the Ministry wasn't Harry's favorite place, can you blame him? There were a lot of things that bothered him but mostly he hated that so many Death Eaters got off when innocent people were getting railroaded," George defended.

"After zhe horrible way they treated him? I would zhink so!" Fleur huffed impatiently. "Ma cherie Harry deserved better!"

"Harry had a lot of good reasons to be hacked off at the Minsitry last year but if you know Harry then you know that he always worries more about other people than himself and it bothered the hell out of that they were going after Sirius when he was innocent," Fred put in.

"The Minister was wrong to ignore the facts of the return of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named, we are all in agreement in that regard, but to call into question everything that the Ministry has done for the past five centuries is uncalled for," Aurora argued. "These are procedures and protocols that have been refined for centuries."

"It's as if nothing has changed in five centuries," Emmeline muttered, not-quite-subtly.

"Then what exactly should we be doing?" Severus asked acidly. "It's one thing to criticize but do any of you have any actual suggestions?" Severus was a practical man. He was cynical enough to recognize that no solution would be perfect but compromises needed to be made in order to keep people safe. It was something that Minerva agreed with in theory but also deeply saddened her. It seemed as though the people of their world had long ago agreed that things were 'good enough' and had no desire to see advancement or improvement. Change was a dangerous concept to people that prided themselves on centuries of customs and traditions.

"What we really need to do is build better relations among the non-human magical creatures," Kingsley interjected before the argument could grow too heated. He too was an Auror and respected the law, but unlike many of his older colleagues, Kingsley recognized the failings that the Ministry had and wanted to work towards fixing them.

The new topic was quickly picked up and the criticisms of the government were left undiscussed, but certainly not forgotten by those present. The talk of Ministry politics was typically exhausting. Minerva was not a young woman and she had already lived through more than one war in the past, which meant that very little surprised her about power hungry politicians. When politicians felt cornered their first reaction was to find someone to take the blunt of the blame. Lately it had been werewolves, vampires, centaurs and goblins. There had been a concerted effort to blame the darker creatures prematurely for supporting the Death Eaters as well as clearly taking control away from any sentient being that might challenge wizard authority. While the younger members varied between surprise and outrage at the Ministry's latest measures to protect their image rather than protect the people, Minerva was sad to note in herself a more cynical resignation.

And of course the Ministry was only making things worse.

News that the Dementors had left Azkaban was expected.

News that the giants had also joined the enemy was not…but hardly shocking.

The Vampires were surprisingly holding out against joining the enemy, but no one was particularly confident that their loyalty to the Ministry would last. They had been given no reason to trust in the Ministry that had stripped them so many rights.

However there were quite a few deaths in the low country that were unaccounted for, the bodies had been ravaged more than was usual leaving the Ministry to draw the most logical conclusion and their new policies showed their stance quite clearly.

"You can't be serious? The Ministry's already blaming the werewolves? They haven't picked a side yet but now they have no reason to help us!" Tonks cried angrily.

"Tonks, most werewolves were very likely to side with Voldemort anyway. People that are truly on our side will not be easily swayed, even with these new policies," Remus Lupin explained, his voice rather tired. Minerva felt for the younger man, he was struggling and from the shabby clothes, gaunt face and miserable expression, it clearly showed. He had lost his best friend and now was having to deal with the increased discrimination of the Ministry. In the last few weeks, any and all non-humans were quickly being held under unusual suspicion. Fudge was in the process of shifting blame. He could not allow the public to blame him for delaying in going after Voldemort, and Dumbledore and Harry were no longer viable punching bags. In fact, Harry especially had returned to celebrity status so quickly one might be concerned the boy might suffer from whiplash.

"Doesn't make it right professor," Fred Weasley said, his expression angry.

"Sounds like Umbridge is still around there. Something like this has got her name all over it," George added.

"Boys these decisions are complicated and to blame someone simply because she gave you some problems in school-" Molly started.

"Actually Molly, Mr. Weasley is right. Most of this legislation did originate with Delores. Now that she has left Hogwarts, she has returned to her position with the Ministry and has wasted little time in jumping back into the fray, as it were," Albus explained with distaste. "A rather astute observation Mr. Weasley."

This time a feeling of indignation did well up inside of Minerva. She had rarely dealt with a more detestable woman in her life. The things she had done to Hogwarts, the ways she had gone after the students- Harry Potter in particular. She had made things nearly untenable in the school and it was with a distinct feeling of relief that Minerva knew that when she went back in the fall, the halls would be absent of Delores Umbridge.

"Speaking of Dolores and the school, what is the Ministry's response to the rumors in the _Prophet_?" Emmeline Vance asked. This grabbed everyone's attention. The _Daily Prophet_ had been running article after article speculating on the reasons as to why Harry Potter and 'He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named' were both found in the Hall of Prophesy. Most had come to the rather hasty conclusion that it meant that a 15 year old boy was destined to defend them all. Minerva found the sensationalism of it all disgusting. Potter was a teenager, not a warrior and to expect him to solve all of their problems because of a freak magical occurrence from when he was a baby was absurd in her opinion.

Albus sighed, "At the moment…they are quite interested in Harry. I believe that most of the top people in the Ministry now realize that in actuality the real mistake that was made last year was not in denying Voldemort's return but in distancing themselves from the one person that may have a chance of stopping the conflict. They want very badly to been seen as not only allies of Harry- but in control of him. It will not be an easy year for him, I fear."

"The latest word around the Ministry is that they want to award Harry an Order of Merlin for his fight at in the Department of Mysteries, and to do a very public ceremony," Kingsley spoke, his deep voice betraying a trace of disapproval.

"Harry will love that," Fred said with a laugh.

"Potter will love that," Severus Snape said at the same time but with condemnation.

"Severus," Remus sighed with exasperation.

"Potter loves nothing more than being the center of attention. Never mind the fact that far from being rewarded for his reckless actions he should be made to suffer the consequences of putting the entirety of the Order in danger. I find it bad enough that Minerva actually rewarded Potter and the other sidekicks 50 points _a piece,_ but now he will be receiving our world's highest honor for refusing to apply himself to the study of Occlumency and recklessly disregarding his safety and the safety of everyone around himself," Severus declared harshly. His eyes were dark with anger and his left hand had balled itself into a fist.

"That's not a fair thing to say Severus, Harry did what he thought was right. According to Ron and Ginny he had even tried to tell Minerva about his vision but she was in St. Mungo's and Dumbledore wasn't at the school either. He felt he was out of options," Arthur explained fairly.

"Potter is perfectly aware of my position in the Order, his own stubbornness kept him from informing me. Instead he launched a ridiculous plan to use the fireplace in Delores Umbridge's office and managed to get himself and all of his little friends caught to boot."

"You have done nothing to show Harry that he can trust you from the first day that he met you. You treated him like he was James- Harry's not his father, Severus. You can't spend five years showing him every reason in the world to distrust you and then be surprised that it worked," Remus answered, his normally calm voice for once colored with anger.

"I don't want to go around casting blame, what's done is done, but I tend to think that Harry should have known better than dragging five students into a secure Ministry where he knew that not only Death Eaters were present but he believed that You-Know-Who was there as well. Even if his vision had been accurate and not a trap- what in the hell did the boy think he was going to do against You-Know-Who of all people?" Donald Farley asked them stoutly. He was a newer member that had once worked as an Unspeakable himself in the Department of Mysteries, one that had never met Harry face to face before. Minerva found the familiarity of his address towards the boy strange and a bit presumptuous.

This was met with a mixture of muttered agreement and sound protests on Harry's behalf. Most of the adults, especially those that did not know Harry personally, felt that he had acted recklessly and had endangered the Order as a whole. A few even called for the boy to be held accountable for his actions.

"I rather think that Harry has been punished enough for his actions. He lost his godfather, there is no consequence that he could suffer from us that would have a greater impact on him," Albus said quietly.

"That poor boy," Molly Weasley sniffed. "He has been through so much and I don't like that he's so isolated with those relatives of his. He's barely written to Ron this summer and when he's written to the Order its clear that's he not handling things well. Something needs to be done Albus. We can't expect Harry to be left with those awful muggles so soon after losing Sirius."

"The boy is safe under the Blood Wards- and the guards have reported no disturbances," Moody countered.

"I rather think that Molly is more concerned about Mr. Potter's _emotional_ well-being," Minerva threw in. She happened to be in agreement with the woman. Potter was one of the most headstrong students she had ever had. When Minerva had become the Head of Gryffindor, she had quickly learned that her House produced the most troublesome, stubborn and independent students there were. Children that valued bravery before forethought or caution were the least likely to want to be dependent on others. It was a strange irony for her Lions, for people that rarely hesitated to show loyalty or give help to others, they were often reluctant to seek it out. Many people expected the Slytherins to be known for their independence- and they certainly could be, but in the end their sense of self-preservation usually won out. A Slytherin would sell their own soul to get what they needed to survive, a Gryffindor would die trying to make do with what they already had.

Twenty-eight years she had served as Head of House and in that time she had run across every kind of childhood problem. Homesickness, death of a loved one, family troubles and abuse, bullying, trouble with academics and just the everyday stresses of being an adolescent and in all of her time she had never met a student less inclined to ask for help. In his five years as her student Potter had never once knocked on her door uninvited. In fact, she was ashamed to admit to herself, the one time that Potter had ever come to her for help was the only time she could remember turning away a student in need. Of course at the time she had no idea that three First Year students had known so much about the Philosopher's Stone but the fact that she had not questioned them further, had not ensured that they were kept out of harm's way, had haunted her ever since. What concerned her about Harry now was not only the loss he had suffered or even the burden that was currently being forced upon him by the greater Wizarding World, but the troubling thought that he would attempt to go it alone.

"Harry cannot leave his Aunt's house at the moment. I know it is unfair to make him stay in a place he is uncomfortable but it is unsafe to move him at this time," Albus said, not without regret.

"All teenagers complain about not being able to do as they please during the summer holidays, Albus. I don't quite understand the urgency with these muggles," Aurora Tackley asked with a frown.

"Potter is accustomed to getting whatever he wants and the people in this room are infamous for giving it to him," Severus answered divisively.

"Molly said that they were awful muggles," Hestia began.

"They are!" Molly insisted. "They have never cared for Harry the way a family should care for a young boy."

"Potter comes back each year healthy and intact. The fact that they don't cater to his every whim is a good thing. Personally I'm surprised they show him any restraint at all- you wouldn't think they have in the past with the way he expects the world to bow at his feet."

"Severus really! That is an uncalled for assessment," Minerva shouted out, surprised in spite of herself that Severus would speak so contemptuously of Potter in front of the entire Order. "Harry Potter is more than considerate of others and cares deeply for their needs. When you're determined to see the worst in someone, it will always be there to see."

"Wise words Minerva, and ones worth considering for everyone," Albus answered calmly but his gaze was still on Severus, his eyes clearly disappointed in the younger man.

Albus sighed but returned his attention to matters at hand. "While we are the topic of Harry, I think now would be a good time to bring up the fact that the Ministry has seen fit to officially pardon Sirius of his crimes."

"Really? After everything they've been forced to admit to, they were really willing to admit to this as well?" Bill asked in surprise.

"Ah…well I might have strongly implied that the first step to even an attempted reconciliation with Harry Potter would be to grant the godfather, whom he had tried to speak to the Minister about two years previously, full clemency. I also think that by admitting it quickly and relatively quietly in the wake of so many other events the Ministry was rather hoping the news would slip by most of the public. Most people are more concerned with Voldemort's return than about the innocence of one supposed Death Eater. So far this has unfortunately been proven correct. But more to my point, with this pardon, Sirius' will becomes public. I believe Harry will be receiving a notice from Gringotts in the next day or so about the reading and there have been notices for a few people here as well. Remus of course, but Molly and Arthur I believe you are invited as well?"

Arthur spoke up, "actually it was Ron that was mentioned, I believe Hermione Granger was also mentioned but I believe that she will be away with her family during the reading and won't be able to attend."

"I'm not sure about Ron attending either, with the state of things and all..." Molly fretted.

"I'm sure things are quite safe at the moment and no doubt Harry would enjoy seeing his friends at a time like this," Albus said with compassion.

The Weasleys nodded but Minerva could see that Molly at least looked uneasy and she wondered if it had more to do with the fact that her son had been named as beneficiary in a Black family will that concerned her rather than the presumed danger of venturing out of public, even in broad daylight.

"Very well," Albus continued, "Minerva as Harry's Head of House, I would ask that you attend as well?"

Minerva nodded, it was not unusual for the Head of a student's house to attend such events on their behalf- particularly ones that did not have other dependable family. She knew without asking that the Dursleys would not be attending and although Remus would be there, they would need additional Order members anyway.

"Remus I hope you don't mind my perhaps speaking out of turn but it is my belief that Sirius has placed a provision in his will that will in effect make you Harry's custodian."

The grey-haired man looked a bit startled at that announcement, apparently unprepared for such a statement. "But-"

"Yes Remus I am aware of what the law says in regards to werewolves taking custody of fully human children, which is why I say 'custodian' and guardian. Harry will remain at his Aunt and Uncle's house but he will still need the advice and guidance of an adult in our world. Sirius knew that, I discussed as much with him myself when we spoke of his affairs. I spoke with him at length about the importance of providing Harry with solid support should the worst happen to him. I wanted to mention this to you now so that you were prepared during the reading. It will most assuredly be an emotional time for Harry, a confusing one as well. He has now lost both of his parents and his godfather, it would not be unusual for him to attempt to pull away from us. For him to feel… jaded by the idea of having another person in a parental role that he can potentially lose and I wanted to make sure you were both ready and willing to take on this role before Harry discovers it. If you do not want the responsibility, I think we can all understand but I would rather we settle that privately and not let Harry know that there was another option."

There were a few uneasy glances but most people were nodding their heads. The last thing that a child needed after losing an authority figure in their life was rejection. Remus looked uncertain and Minerva knew that the idea of taking a more active role in Harry's life made the man nervous. He had spent a long time distancing himself from others and, to a certain extent, Harry in particular after the tragic end of the last war. The last years of the First War had been dark times, a constant fear had prevaded every facet of their lives. It had poisoned even the closest of friendships, leading to mistrust. The closenss of the 'Marauders' had shared at Hogwarts had dissolved into distrust, and Remus had not been singled out on mere whim. Once again Minerva did not know of all the specifics but she knew that there were secrets that her former students had taken to the grave. Secrets that had more than likely never been fully resolved. She could see that the idea of creating a closer bond with the son of late friend unnerved Remus more than Albus had perhaps suspected it would.

Nevertheless, Gryffindor traits ran deep and Remus had never been one to shrink from duty, particularly one bestowed upon him by the man that had once given him the chance to attend the school of his dreams and offer him a future of something more than only constant injustice.

"No Albus, I would be honored to help Harry if that's what Sirius wanted," Remus agreed cautiously. "I think…I think he needs someone in his life to give him advice," he added thoughtfully and although no more was said Minerva didn't think that she was the only one that noticed that Remus seemed to be addressing much more than the current situation.

Albus addressed the room at large. "I think it goes without saying that Harry is going through a difficult time. Much is expected of him and much more will be asked of him- I trust that everyone here will try and ease that burden for him. We are all here for the same reasons, to make a better world- one that is not threatened by Voldemort and his Death Eaters but we must not lose sight of the trees for the view of the forest. Harry is not yet 16 and will not be above making mistakes. He needs guidance but he very much needs our support as well."

There were nods from the other members. "Excellent. There is one other piece of information that I am happy to announce. After several years of dodging my requests I happy to say that Aurora has finally agreed to take the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher."

There was a moment of surprise before the applause broke out and Aurora Tackley smiled graciously. She was a new member- one that had worked for the Ministry as an Auror trainer for many years and until recent events had been known to have always been loyal to them. She still was in many ways. She would not go against their policy but she recognized that if action was needed to be taken in the war, the Order was more likely to act and she wanted to be in the thick of it.

Frankly, in spite of her rather impeccable reputation, Minerva had a few doubts about the woman. She was a very ordered woman, known to follow the rules religiously. I trait that Minerva respected on principle and yet worried about in application. As much as her heart appeared to be in the right place, and as much as an asset she could be in the field (she was an almost unparalleled dueler) she worried that if push came to shove the Auror would put her job or her supposed duties before doing what was ultimately right.

"Thank you all for your support. I don't take this job lightly, after looking over the curriculum that has been taught over the course of the last few years I can say that I am far from impressed. There are significant gaps that need to be filled and I have a few ideas on where to start..."

 **Thank you all so much for continuing to read. Most of this story will be from Harry's POV however there will be random chapters from other characters to give a hint of what others experience. Any suggestions I would be happy to hear from.**


	3. It's So Hard to Say Goodbye

**Chapter Three: It's So Hard to Say Goodbye**

Harry looked in the mirror and grunted in frustration. He had been attempting to tie his borrowed tie for the last twenty minutes and now he had gone and knotted the damn thing. Harry had never worn a suit before but Sirius had never had a funeral and he could not travel to London in Wizarding robes. He had thought that dressing nice would be the last act he could make for his godfather, one last way to pay him respect. Now, however, he was beginning to regret the pleading and deals he had made with his Aunt in order to obtain the fitted suit from the second-hand shop. As he looked at himself in the mirror, he couldn't help but think that Sirius would have either found his outfit hilarious or even offensive. Sirius had had no use for tradition or standing on ceremony.

Still…at the thought that Sirius, at least, might have thought it funny that Harry had taken the time to bargain for a muggle suit to wear to a wizard's will reading in a goblin run bank, in front of the rest of the traditional Black relatives, his resolve strengthened and he calmly disentangled his knot, breathing deeply in the process to slow himself down. He was interrupted by the sound of loud footsteps and the banging open of his door to reveal Dudley, large but now solidly muscular over his bulk, who abruptly froze when he saw Harry in the room. "Er…I thought you'd gone already. I was gonna use the punching bag."

"I still have about ten minutes till they're due to pick me up, but I can clear out of here in a minute" Harry answered distracted, inwardly gratified that he just managed to undo the last of the knot. He slapped the freed end of the tie against the desk that was scattered with newspaper headlines ranging from " **Harry Potter- Chosen One?"** to **"Auror Shortages or Incompetence?"**

"Having trouble?" Dudley smirked.

Harry glared at his cousin, his shoulders slightly hunched with tension, a combination of anger and embarrassment. "It's not really your business. I don't really need it anyway, I'll just leave the collar open."

Dudley was quiet for a minute. "You've never worn a tie have you?"

Harry's jaw tightened, he wasn't in the mood to play 'poor little orphan Harry' today. Any day but today. He could remember Uncle Vernon proudly telling Dudley that he was going to teach his son how to 'dress like a man' before he left for Smeltings. For the first time Harry wished he had actually paid attention to what the large man had been saying and doing at the time. His voice was clipped and terse, "We wear different things in the wiz- at my school so no, Dudley, I've never worn a tie."

Dudley nodded and after a beat of silence followed up with, "I could tie it for you." His tone was awkward and uncertain, he moved as though he were about to step forward but he leaned back and seemed to reconsider making the action before Harry had responded.

Harry's head shot up in surprise before his eyes narrowed slightly. "Do you really mean that? Or is this just some excuse to choke me with a tie or wrap up my hands behinds my back because I swear to god Dudley I can't deal with that shit today."

Dudley's eyes widened at Harry's words. "Are you going to a funeral?" he asked in a rush.

Harry shook his head. "There wasn't a…" there hadn't been a body so there could be no funeral. "There isn't going to be a funeral, this is a will reading but it comes to the same thing, doesn't it? Sirius is gone and I… I just don't want to fight today," he said quietly. A week had passed since Harry's dream and his routine at Privet Drive had changed a lot since that time. Instead of long, drawn out hours of self-imposed suffering, Harry's goal now was constant occupation. He got up and exercised both with the equipment in his room and with sit ups and push-ups. He made breakfast and then did yard work for his aunt. He spent the rest of the time going over the Defense books Sirius had given to him the previous Christmas. The Dursleys had noticed Harry's new productivity and Vernon had initially been highly suspicious. After the second time Harry had done a chore without being asked, the man had demanded to know what Harry thought he was up to. The fight had been vicious on both sides. Now that Harry's initial stupor of grief had given way, he had been fueled by anger at his uncle. Uncle Vernon had already been put out by Harry's continued nighttime screams and had reached his typical boiling point.

Not for the first time, Harry was lucky that he had always been a fast healer. Years with the Durlseys and no one had ever spotted a bruise on him, infrequent as they were, and he was happy that on top of everything else, today would not be the day for that particular discussion. The slight scruff of a beard that he had left on his cheeks hid the very faint purple coloration. Marks to his face were almost nonexistent. Vernon was generally more bluster than bruiser and when he did become violent he was smart enough to hit the chest or back. Over the years Harry had developed dozens of techniques to avoid any physical discipline be by a quick mouth or quicker reflexes, but in his anger he had been too proud to duck away from the punch.

"I can do it for you, then I'll just leave it loose and you can adjust it around your neck. We have to wear them at school all the time," Dudley said with a shrug as if being sure to show Harry that his help in this matter was entirely minimal.

Harry nodded and handed over the tie. Dudley slipped it around his neck and slowly did up the knot, saying each step aloud but looking unsure about teaching something to another person. He lifted the tie over his head and handed the loop over to Harry who put it on over his own head and adjusted it until it was secure around his neck.

"Thanks Big D," Harry said quietly.

Dudley nodded and then glanced around unsurely for a moment before finally asking, "Er…Harry? How did…did he die? Your godfather I mean. Was it…the same bloke that did in your parents?"

Harry sucked in a sharp breath and struggled not to snap at Dudley. It was, after all, a fairly reasonable question. But the idea of ever discussing something personal with a member of the Dursley household was an utterly alien concept to him. He hadn't even planned on telling any of them of Sirius' death at all. They had alternately feared and hated the man in life, and Harry was not about to give any of them a feeling of satisfaction at his death. But the notice from Gringotts along with the fact that he was going to be escorted to it by members of the Order- who undoubtedly would say something- not to mention Harry's desire to obtain a half-way decent suit for the occasion, had necessitated Harry having to tell them more information about his life than he had ever previously offered.

"Not exactly," Harry answered quietly. "I mean Voldemort, the wizard that killed my parents that is, didn't kill Sirius himself. It was this witch named Bellatrix Lestrange, but she works for him. She's actually scarily obsessed with him," Harry muttered.

Dudley frowned, thinking always difficult for him. "But why? I mean why kill him?"

Harry sighed, it was so completely insane that his own relatives had absolutely no idea what it meant for him to known as 'Harry Potter' in the Wizarding World. To have no earthly concept of the threat that Voldemort represented and what fighting against him actually meant.

"Voldemort…he's a terrorist I guess you could say. He has this belief that all wizards should be 'Purebloods' that means that they don't have any muggle…er I guess you would say 'normal' blood. He has these followers that are known as the Death Eaters and together he and his followers kill anyone that stands against him. Sirius spent his whole life fighting them - even though he came from one of the biggest Pureblood families out there."

Dudley was looking at him closely, an expression that might have been considered thoughtful on a person that was capable of having deep thoughts on his face. "And you're against him too? Even though Dad's always on you about not being… normal?"

Harry raised his eyebrows at Dudley, surprised that his cousin would have made that connection. Harry himself had often found irony in the fact that he had essentially been raised in the muggle version of the Death Eater ideology. For a moment Harry didn't say anything, unsure how to respond.

"Harry! I can see them coming up the drive! Get down here now," his Aunt shouted up the stairs.

"Uncle Vernon's always been wrong about wizards…and Voldemort's always been wrong about muggles. When someone is wrong, I guess someone has to stand up for what's right."

Dudley's mouth had opened slightly in surprise but Harry didn't have time to hear his response, he turned and walked out of the room.

The doorbell rang and Harry steeled himself for a long day. He could not tell which part he dreaded more- was it the reading itself, which was such a cold final ending to a man who would've wanted a celebration in his name. Or was it dealing with the Dursleys while wizards visited, or was it dealing with the wizards themselves, whom Harry fully expected to want to discuss how he was feeling with him.

He made his way downstairs just in time to overhear his uncle live up to a lifetime of disappointments. Uncle Vernon was making awkward, stilted conversation. Trying hard to be as condescending as possible with people he was convinced were rabidly dangerous while still trying to maintain the decorum of good British manners. "I suppose he'll be staying with you lot then. For the summer of course. No reason for you to go out of your way dropping him back here again."

"Mr. Potter will be returning to his home by this evening. I was under the impression you were made aware of these plans. I would think most relations would relish the opportunity to spend more time with each other considering the school year is quite a long enough absence as it is." Harry was surprised to hear McGonagall's crisp, disapproving voice. The letter he had received had told him that Remus Lupin and a couple of Order members would be coming to pick him up but for some reason he had been assuming to see one of the members that had come with the guard last year.

"So much for wishful thinking," Harry said with a slight quirk of his lip in his uncle's direction. There was only one thing in this world that Harry agreed with Vernon Dursley on, they were both happiest far away from the other's company.

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall greeted with uncharacteristic surprise lacing her words. "I hadn't realized you were…" she cleared her throat and Harry suspected that she had been caught off guard at having him overhear her telling off his relatives for their lack of concern in regards to him. Harry wasn't sure if he was expected to be surprised to learn that the Dursleys were trying to off-load him sooner rather than later, but, of course, he hadn't been. "I should say that you look quite smart. Even got that hair of yours to behave for a change."

Harry grinned ruefully, that had been a hard fought battle and he had a feeling that he had only reached a ceasefire rather than an actual victory.

"Professor Lupin, I'm…" Harry wasn't sure what to say exactly. What was the appropriate greeting for someone escorting you to a will reading when the last time that you had seen one another was when said person had died? He could hardly say that he was glad to see the man under such conditions. Harry stretched out his hand in greeting. "I'm glad that you came, I mean that we could go together."

Lupin returned the handshake and smiled at him, "I like to think that Sirius would have wanted us to be there for each other today. And please, I think I've told you before that you can call me Remus."

Harry nodded, "Right sorry. Old habits."

"How have you been Harry?"

Harry shrugged, already weary of the inquiry, particularly when it was accompanied by not one but two penetrating stares. "I've been alright," he shrugged and placed his hands into the pockets of his trouser pants, causing the jacket to open slightly and reveal the crimson red shirt and black tie that he was wearing. The red was because it was the boldest color that he could find and he had a feeling that Sirius would have liked it that way.

Remus and McGonagall exchanged a brief sidelong glance that made Harry highly uncomfortable but it was his Aunt's unusually open expression that really took him aback. She was looking at him as though she had never really seen him before and Harry wasn't quite sure what she saw. It occurred to him that despite the 15 odd years he had lived under her roof, it was the first time that the Dursleys had seen him in properly fitted clothes, let alone smart ones.

"You should straighten that tie before you leave, wouldn't want to make a nice suit look sloppy when you get there," she settled on saying. This was the closest thing to a compliment that the Dursleys had ever given him and it was with this thought in mind that Harry stepped in front of the mirror in the front hall and adjusted the tie until it laid straight without any comment.

Vernon's eyes were narrowed and Harry knew that if it weren't for the presence of the wizards in his house, he would have commented on the fact that he very highly doubted any of 'his lot' could complain about a mislaid tie when he doubted any other person would be appropriately dressed.

"This godfather of yours actually left you something? I suppose that's better than those parents of yours, leaving nothing but a… leaving you for others to take care of," Vernon muttered disapproving. Remus was glaring at Vernon, his normally patient and calm expression had turned unusually vicious. Harry wondered if Remus knew that his uncle had been about to call him a burden on his family- a sentiment that he had neglected to use in front of wizards but had been used so often throughout Harry's life that it left no doubt in his mind what his uncle had been about to say. Neither McGonagall nor Lupin seemed surprised that Harry had neglected to mention that his parents had in fact left him quite comfortable.

Harry thought it might be a good time to change topics before his relatives could speak much longer with anyone else. The very last thing he needed on top of everything else today were additional concerns raised about relatives. Any other day Harry would have been glad to tell anyone who was willing to listen that the Dursleys were the very worst sort of muggles but from the sympathetic looks he was already receiving from Lupin and McGonagall, he rather thought that that such news today would only make him seem impossibly pathetic. Poor Harry Potter, his godfather dies and he's left to his horrible relatives. Harry had never been comfortable around pity. When he spoke of the Durlseys he wanted people to recognize that as awful as they were- he had always been able to handle them.

"Thanks for coming professor, I know you must be busy over the summer."

"Mr. Potter you have been a member of my House for going on six years now, I do hope that you know that I am always available to my students when they need me, particularly during such a trying and emotional time."

Professor McGonagall was not an inherently warm person and even words of comfort from her came out as a kind of reprimand. It was as though Harry had accused her of negligence in some way as a Head of House merely for thinking that she might have better things to do than sitting by his side while some solicitor settled Sirius' affairs. However, it was true that Harry had lived in her House for 5 full years and he did understand what she was trying to say.

"Thank you, Professor."

"We should go Harry," Remus said with a glance at the Dursleys. Harry merely nodded, "I'll be back later, don't worry probably after dark," he couldn't help adding with a twitch of his lip. Neither McGonagall nor Lupin were dressed strictly as muggles.

They left quickly and the door had barely closed behind them before Remus asked him, "why would it matter if you came home after dark Harry?"

Harry shrugged, his tone intentionally casual, "The Dursleys are always worried that the neighbors will find out about my er…'abnormality' so the idea of a group of wizards marching up the front drive in robes is kind of their worst nightmare. I thought that if they knew that we weren't getting back until after dark they at least didn't have to spend the next few hours worrying about it. After dark, everyone around here shuts their curtains and wouldn't look outside unless an actual bomb went off."

"Your _abnormality_?" McGonagall asked stiffly. "I hope you don't mean to suggest that your relatives see magic as something that should be considered indecent or should be corrected in some way."

Harry grimaced, so much for making things sound casual. "My relatives aren't very fond of magic professor, but its fine. They've actually gotten better about it."

"Better how?" Remus pressed.

Harry tried to stifle a sigh of irritation, "Remus, I told you its fine. It's not the end of the world that the Dursleys don't like magic, they still give me a place to stay, don't they? Now can we please not go through this today?" Harry asked, finally avoiding all pretense. He knew what was expected of him today and he was willing to do it for Sirius. It was the last thing he could for his godfather and he was determined to be strong for a man that had never spoken down to Harry and had always treated him like an adult. Sirius had been the only person in Harry's life that had truly loved him and with that love had come a respect for his abilities. He had always treated Harry as an equal. Harry missed both of those things now.

Remus and McGonagall exchanged another knowing glance and Harry suspected that neither one of them were pleased that he had used 'give him a place to stay' to describe people that were supposed to be family but he was glad to see that neither one was willing to push the issue today either. "How will we be getting there?" Harry asked as much to change the subject as in genuine curiosity.

"Your neighbor Arabella Figg has a Floo Connection, we'll be using that to go to the Leaky Cauldron, and we can obviously get to Gringotts from there."

Harry nodded, still slightly taken aback that Mrs. Figg had been connected to the Wizarding World all that time. All that time that Dumbledore and the others had known what the Dursleys were like and had done nothing to help him. It made their inquires now seem almost taunting. To leave him to his own devices when he had needed rescuing and offer him solace now that he knew that he was fine on his own.

When they reached Number 8 Mrs. Figg greeted them with her typical no-nonsense attitude, "Thought you'd be here earlier, cutting it close now, aren't you?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Arabella you know perfectly well that we planned to arrive now, no need to spend any more time there than necessary so no need for such dramatics," McGonagall responded sternly Harry inwardly wondered if McGonagall found the idea of being reprimanded by someone else so unnatural to the rightful order of things that it was the reason behind the slight twitch of her left eye.

"Fine, fine who am I to question your timetable?" Mrs. Figg grumbled. "And how have you been holding up then?" Mrs. Figg asked him with usual briskness. It was a nice change from the horrible sympathy he had been getting from people since the night of Sirius' death. "Hasn't been an easy year for you, has it?"

"You get the _Daily Prophet_ then?" Harry asked with a frown. Mrs. Figg waved him off impatiently, "Of course I do, what do you take me for boy? Someone uninformed?"

"If you want to be informed I wouldn't read the _Prophet_ too closely," Harry answered drily. "But I've been alright, thanks for asking. And thank you for testifying at the trial last year, if it weren't for you I would have been expelled…and then probably murdered," Harry added, only half-joking. He regretted it immediately as he saw Lupin and McGonagall exchange another of their anxious glances. It seemed that they didn't appreciate the humor.

"I was only telling the truth, but you need to get going, it won't do for you to be late with those Black descendants hovering around like vultures with their fancy solicitors and waiting for any excuse to give their case more leverage. Narcissa Malfoy would pick the meat off a dead carcass just so that she could claim that she was the first to get there."

Harry frowned, Dumbledore's letter had warned him that he would be seeing some less than desirable people today and had advised him to keep a cool head and allow the Order to sort things out if the time came for it, but he hated the idea that the very people responsible for Sirius' death now stood the chance of profiting from it. The only thing that had kept Harry's temper in check when he had first read the missive was remembering that Bellatrix was still a wanted fugitive and therefore, no matter what her blood relation, could not appear today.

"Everything will be fine," Lupin stated firmly, his stare a clear reprimand to the older woman for bringing up additional stresses in front of him. Harry, for his part, found himself slightly more irritated at Remus for clumsily trying to hide these problems from him as though he was ignorant child than from the tactless Mrs. Figg for reminding him in the first place.

"Mrs. Figg is right, we should go, don't want Draco Malfoy running off with Sirius' goblin goblets or something- though if the Malfoy's get Mrs. Black's portrait I don't think I'll object."

McGonagall's lips twitched slightly as Harry accepted the canister of Floo Powder from her, after a quick goodbye and a very precisely enunciated "Leaky Cauldron", Harry found himself once more at the pub that had first introduced him to the wonders and horrors of the Wizarding World.

He waited for his adult escorts and made his way out into Diagon Alley, only to be met with a veritable hailstorm of reporters screaming questions and snapping pictures at him in every direction.

"Mr. Potter what do you have to say about reports of the Black estate being divided among the Malfoy's and the Lestranges?"

"Harry how do feel about the Ministry's blatant bias against you in the past year? Do you hold any grudges?"

"Rumors say you were one of the most vocal student protesters against the Ministry educational decrees last year, why are you against improvements in the way Hogwarts is run?"

"Harry what is the real reason you were that the Department of Mysteries at the end of last year?"

But one question kept coming over and over again.

"Harry…are reports about the prophesy true? Are you truly the Chosen One?"

Harry squared his jaw against the onslaught. No, he was not going to do this now, he had wanted to be left alone. To grieve and to remember Sirius…the man the whole of the Wizarding World had conspired at every turn to keep from him. Harry had always given all that he had to his friends, to his school and to the Wizarding World in general, and not once had he been appreciated for his effort. Not the idle and false worship of being their hero, but genuine respect for his accomplishments. Instead they had only asked more of him. More than he had to give and then punished him for his efforts. Calling him attention seeking, questioning his sanity, alienating him from his peers and classmates. And on the whole, that was fine, all he had ever wanted was to be left alone. It was bad enough that this request was almost never given to him but today, _of all days_ , was simply too much. Today was about Sirius.

Lupin grabbed his upper arm and tried to rush him through the crowd, something Harry normally would have been all too happy to comply with, but at the moment he was feeling strangely defiant. Today was about Sirius and he was not going to allow anything to steal focus from the only father-figure Harry had ever known. Harry laid his opposite hand on the hand gripping his arm and gave Lupin a significant look, slowing his pace so that he was walking thought the crowd with deliberate avoidance. His heart was racing, his palms sweaty and his stomach was churning from all of the attention, but his expression was calm. Harry had always hated been the square focus of everyone's attention, and this experience was made worse when he remembered all of the times he had been portrayed so negatively by the press, but he was also tired of running from them. With the kind of resolve that he had learned from the Dursleys and had used to show up day after day to Umbridge's torturous detentions he forced himself not to flinch away from the cameras as he had as an overwhelmed 12 year old in Flouish and Blotts. He walked calmly but silently down the road, head held high, telling himself he only had about 30 more steps till he reached the bank.

"Mr. Potter, would you like to comment on the recent arrests the Ministry has made?" Now he only had 25.

"Harry! What do you have to say about the rumor that you tried to tell the Minister two years ago that Sirius Black was innocent?"

"Do you agree with the controversial decision to vacate his verdict?"

And before he had consciously made up his mind to do it, Harry stopped so abruptly that Professor McGonagall almost walked into him but Harry only turned towards the growing crowd. "There was never a verdict to vacate! Sirius Black was innocent of all charges and was never given the right to a trial, I hope that the Ministry has learned from its mistakes in the past and is working to ensure that everyone is treated fairly in the future. The Ministry needs to capture and arrest Death Eaters, we can't be letting guilty people go because they come from wealthy families but we can't lock up innocent people because it makes us feel better. It's not about feeling safer, it's about actually making the world safer by making sure that justice is actually served. Er…that's all I have to say… thank you."

Harry's face felt hot and his legs felt wobbly as he walked quickly towards the bank, this time pulling Remus along rather than keeping him back. He hadn't planned to say anything and he had to repeat his words over a few times in his head to make sure that he hadn't said anything incredibly stupid. He had wanted so badly to curse Fudge and the sheep of the Ministry for the misery they had caused him the previous year. He had wanted to yell and rage at the injustice of what they had all done to his godfather. They had taken the only family that Harry had ever truly had and kept them apart for Harry's entire life. He could count the number of times that he had been able to actually see Sirius face to face on two hands and the number of letters they had been able to exchange wouldn't have been able to fill a shoe-box.

Harry uttered a sigh the moment they were inside the building and the press could no longer follow, his shoulders slumping slightly- although even he was unsure if it was in relief or defeat.

"Those were rather wise words, Mr. Potter," McGonagall said, "I've never known you to be one to issue advice like that before."

Harry shrugged awkwardly, embarrassed by the display of his fame. He tried so hard at school to be just a normal student and one of the things that he had always liked about his Head of House was that she had never once drawn attention to the 'celebrity' that he was known for in the rest of the Wizarding World.

"Er…I kind of lost my temper, I probably shouldn't have said anything at all."

"I wouldn't say that Harry. I thought that what you said was just right. Sirius had to suffer unnecessarily for a long time because of a corrupt system that was too eager to arrest Death Eaters instead of fight for justice. I think Sirius would have been proud that you're using his memory to protect others," Remus said quietly.

"Thank you."

"Ah…Mr. Potter I believe that we were expecting you. If you would accompany us to the Conference Room?" the gruff voice of a goblin that Harry didn't recognize stepped forward with another associate. Remus and Professor McGonagall both nodded and seemed ready to follow

"Er…yes sir, sorry if we kept you waiting," Harry greeted, sticking out his hand towards the goblin. The goblin in question looked at him with surprise. "No trouble, you're on time. My name is Slikoor, I will be the lead consultant during the reading, Mr. Potter."

"Thank you for your help, and please you can call me Harry if you prefer," Harry offered. "I'm sorry I didn't catch the names of your associates."

The other two goblins shared a brief look of surprise but their stern expressions seemed to soften a bit. Harry had often heard from Uncle Vernon over the years that when going into any kind of business meeting it was always important to know people's names. For his uncle, it was a way to ingratiate himself in such a manner that made him seem as though he cared and make it easier to make a sale. Harry took this lesson to mean that an ordinary person would see this as simple politeness. Considering Harry's entire moral code was built around deciphering his uncle's strange set of principles into a manner he felt was best suited for the rest of humanity, this seemed like a good idea.

"Hanger, sir."

"Rancoor, Mr. Potter. It's a pleasure."

"Nice to meet you all and thanks again," Harry said as he followed them into the room. It wasn't until after the fact that he found it strange that neither Remus nor his professor had introduced themselves.

The conference room was crowded and Harry immediately noted that Malfoy was there with his mother. Both seemed to have been there for some time and Harry wondered if that meant that they had been worried about being allowed inside for the reading or if they had gotten there early to try and influence someone to help things in their favor. Draco glared at him as he entered and Harry knew that the blond boy was remembering the promise that he had made to Harry at the end of the previous school year- that he would make Harry pay for getting his father locked up. Draco's face was tense and there were slight bags under his eyes as though he had not been sleeping- Harry recognized the look well as he had sported a similar one until only a few days previously when his new busy routine had started to help his sleeping patterns. Harry could see that his father's arrest seemed to be weighing heavily on the Slytherin boy.

As for Narcissa Malfoy, there was something distinctly disheveled about her usually immaculate attire. Harry couldn't pin point exactly what it was that was so very different from the last time he had seen her, briefly, at the World Cup. She was still elegantly (and expensively) dressed, she still wore the same slightly disgusted expression, but there was still something in her very presence that seemed to command less… confidence. He thought perhaps it was a quality in her eyes, which appeared slightly unfocused. Or perhaps Malfoys' eyes were always unfocused when they had nothing to narrow their dislike onto. The Malfoys were speaking quietly to one another but Harry caught the phrase, "disgusting blood traitors," murmured by Draco followed by his mother's insistence, "there's no possible way Orion would allow it." Draco, instead of being assured by these words seemed to grimace at them but nodded nevertheless.

Wanting nothing to do with that conversation, Harry quickly made his way over to what he deemed the 'friendly' side of the room. Ron was there to Harry's surprise, but he was glad that Sirius had thought to include the other boy into the will. Ron was wearing new dress robes in a sedate navy blue that were a vast improvement on the hideous get up that he had been made to wear at the Yule Ball and Harry was glad that the twins had kept their word. Ron was alongside both of his parents, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were clearly dressed in their best cloaks which somehow made their shabby appearance a bit sadder than it usually was.

Ron clapped him on the back, looking oddly relieved to see Harry, almost as though he had half expected him not to show up. "Alright there mate?" He was eyeing him with a careful scrutiny that took Harry aback for a moment, wondering where this new solicitousness was coming from. He had a sneaking suspicion it had somehow originated with Hermione and wondered what his two friends had been writing to one another about him.

Determined to show that he was not about to crack up, Harry greeted his best mate with a handshake and a one-armed half hug. "Yeah I'm alright, I didn't realize you would be here. Glad to see you though. I thought it was going to me and the Malfoys arguing about whether or not a half-blood is allowed to inherit anything."

Ron glared in the direction of their school rival and his mother but seemed to change the subject away from having to deal with anything unpleasant. "I've never seen you in proper muggle dress."

Harry shrugged, slightly embarrassed. "I just... I thought I would do it for Sirius..."

"And don't you look smart!" Mrs. Weasley greeted him with a warm hug that Harry was happy to return. He had half expected the Weasley matron to be upset with him for leading not only Ron into danger at the Ministry but Ginny as well this time. It was the part that he was most upset with himself over. He had thought about his decision to go after Sirius again and again and in the end he did not regret it- but he hated the fact that he had put his friends in such a dangerous situation and had silently vowed to do better in the future. Mrs. Weasley clucked concernedly about his weight and cupped his cheek and vacillated between complimenting his apparent newfound growth and lamenting that she could not personally feed him enough to 'fatten you up, you poor dear.'

Mr. Weasley, gratefully, was more sedate in his greeting. Harry truly loved and appreciated Mrs. Weasley's concern for him but he was very glad that there was no more than one of her. "How are you Harry?" he asked, shaking his hand.

"I've been alright, thanks. You know the usual."

"I hope your relatives have been listening to the little warning that we gave them at the station."

Harry nodded, slightly uncomfortable that so many people had stuck up for him in such a way. It had been both embarrassing and immensely comforting that the Order had gone out of their way to ensure that his summer would be more bearable than usual. There was a part of him that was slightly bitter that so many people had obviously been so acutely aware of the Dursley's treatment towards him and had done nothing to help him for so long. However, he was still grateful that they had taken the time to help now.

"They've been fine…er, thanks for talking to them but I hope that you all know that it wasn't necessary. I've been dealing with the Dursleys for a long time, I know how to get along with them."

Mr. Weasley frowned at the response but Mrs. Weasley tutted and straightened the collar of his suit unnecessarily as she said, "the very fact that you have to worry about them at all is absurd. Why I've never heard such a ridiculous notion before 'know how to get along with them' indeed. They should be the ones worried about you, dear."

Harry gave her a smile that he rather thought turned out more like a grimace at her worry. He loved the way Mrs. Weasley cared and fussed for him as though he were one of her own children and yet at the same time he often felt that she regarded him as the same eleven year old that had had difficulty finding the train platform. He was nearing sixteen years old and in another year he would legally be an adult. He would like it if she valued his opinion at times rather than constantly work to protect him from every evil in the world.

Nevertheless he nodded at her, unsure what he could possibly say about his relatives. The fact of the matter was, things had seemed to hit a plateau that Harry was comfortable with when it came to his muggle relatives. They had silently agreed to peacefully co-exist with an agreed upon end date.

He turned his attention to the group of people talking next to them and saw that it was Tonks with her hair a more muted pink than was her custom talking to two people that after a moment Harry realized must be her parents. Her mother had been Sirius' cousin who had been disowned for marrying a muggle-born. The woman's face was facing the opposite direction from him and when she turned towards him Harry experienced a heart stopping moment in which his wand was in his hand before his mind caught up with him. He released a sharp breath and felt the color that had momentarily flooded his face start to recede a bit. "Harry, are you alright?" Remus asked with concern.

Harry shook his head to clear his mind but managed a smile, "Yeah, yeah of course…she just…she just really resembles her sister," Harry muttered, slightly embarrassed that so many people had witnessed his moment of panic. He caught Ron's surprised expression and knew that his best mate had had the same thought at first, though not quite the same visceral reaction. He shot Harry a sympathetic look, his eyes flicking to the wand in Harry's hand- or perhaps at the speed at which it had happened.

Remus eyed him with a bit of concern but the witch in question had overheard, "well that is certainly one of the more insulting things I've heard in my life," she said with a raised brow. Her face had the same stern aristocratic features that were so common in the Black family but her eyes danced with mirth, reminding Harry more of Sirius rather than his murderer. He wasn't sure if that was much better at the moment.

"Sorry," Harry muttered wishing he could come up with clever remark but his emotions were too close to surface and he felt like even making the mundane of conversation was a struggle.

"Don't let her tease you Harry," Tonks said with a wave of her hand but Harry noticed that her tone was slightly colder than usual. He supposed that the occasion for their meeting must be on her mind and taken some of the brightness out of her normally bubbly personality. "Mum, this is Harry Potter and since I know you hate keeping up with current gossip he's the one that stopped Voldemort."

"Nymphadora really, do you have no sense of decorum?" her mother reprimanded as Ron snorted with laughter and his mother tutted in disapproval.

"Hardly surprisingly given her unfortunate upbringing. Hello Andromeda, daring to show your face in a public setting again? And I thought that the one decent thing you had ever done after you decided to throw your life away with that reprobate was at least keep away from decent people."

"Narcissa, still delightful I see," Andromeda returned, her eyes narrowing and her pale features hardening. "So sorry that Lucius couldn't come today, the hours at Azkaban really are abysmal, aren't they? When do you suppose he'll be joining us? In about 30 years would you say?"

"Lucius is busy with his work at the Ministry like he normally is but I'm sure he'll be along shortly," Narcissa answered with such assertion in the lie that several people nearby paused at the remark. Harry felt his own eyebrows fly towards his hairline.

"Excuse me? What was that?" Andromeda asked, sputtering slightly at the audacity of the lie.

"Mother," Draco Malfoy came up on his mother's left, taking her arm and attempting to pull her away from the conversation. "I thought that we agreed to sit over there."

Narcissa blinked up at her son as though she hadn't the slightly idea of who he was for a moment. "Oh…dear Draco," she said at last, her voice soft and affectionate, as though she hadn't seen him for ages. "Have I told you that you look so much like your father now? So grown up…you are going to have such a lovely time at Hogwarts… this year…"

"Mother…" Draco interjected and the urgency in his voice took Harry aback. There was something strange going on with his Narcissa Malfoy and her son was working very hard to cover it up. Luckily for the Slytherin the solicitor arrived.

"Greetings and salutations to you all, if you would all take your seats we are ready to begin," the solicitor from the Ministry spoke. The group did not need telling twice, there was a large conference table in the room with a few chairs up against the wall. Anyone related to the reading took a seat at the table while those sent to accompany someone took a seat up against the wall. He was a rather short man, about an inch shorter than Harry, who had finally reached a respectable height of 5'7" and was luckily still climbing. The height seemed to made worse by the fact that he was overweight but carried it all in the middle, giving his stomach a rounded appearance. He had a rather red, ruddy face and blond hair that curled on the short ends. There were laugh lines in the corners of his eyes and lips and he seemed the sort to be in a perpetually good mood. Strange for a man that dealt with death and wills on a daily basis in Harry's opinion.

"Hello everyone my name is Martin Tisdale," he had a strange accent, one that sounded vaguely Australian but there was something off about it, something Harry couldn't quite place. Still, he had a pleasant way of speaking- one that was friendly and upbeat but was still laced with professionalism. "I'll be the solicitor and accountant liaison to Gringotts for probate matters. I know this is a rather unique case. Let's see here…Sirius Black's was at one time disowned and then later reinstated into the Black Family in order to fulfill Mrs. Walburga Black's wish that her direct line inherit the estate. Mr. Black's assets were also frozen due to his status as an escaped convict but his conviction was recently overturned…" Mr. Tisdale was shuffling a few papers and looking slightly flustered at having to present such information in this kind of setting. "Er…rather his arrest was expunged because I have just discovered that as he received no trial he was never actually convicted…" he cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Therefore, in summary, it has been determined that Mr. Black's final will and testament is perfectly legal and will be completely binding by both the Institution of Gringott's Bank and the Ministry of Magic. For the record, we have received appeals and injunctions from the Malfoy family as well as the…er… ah yes here it is, the Tonks family."

Harry looked up in surprise at that announcement. He had expected the Malfoy's to try something of this nature. He was aware that the Black family was not only wealthy but had once commanded a great deal of prestige and one would not have had to look at Sirius' will to know that he would not have given the Malfoys what they would have thought fair. But the real surprise was Andromeda Tonks. Harry didn't know the woman at all but he liked Tonks, her daughter, and Sirius himself had described her as his favorite cousin. Meeting her just now, he had gotten a good impression of her but he was put out by the idea that she would want to override Sirius' last wishes before even hearing them. Harry noted that Tonks' cheeks were flushed as he looked over at her.

"Both inquires have been denied. However, after the reading there will be opportunity to object and file for further appeal if either party feels they have ground to counter the final wishes of the deceased." The solicitor shuffled a few more papers before taking out a long parchment with handwriting that Harry instantly recognized. It was the handwriting of the only adult that had ever spent the time to offer him comfort, advice and a sense of family. The handwriting that he had looked for each morning for two years at schools, especially Fourth Year when it was still safer for his godfather to contact him at all.

"I will now be reading the words of the deceased, Mr. Sirius Orion Black.

' _Dated May 23_ _rd_ _1996_

 _I, Sirius Black, being of reasonable mind and sound body do hereby declare that all previous wills and testaments in my name are hereby revoked and this document will stand in its place. To friends, family and enemies alike, I do hope that you will someday get to hear these words as I worry that my final wishes will never be released. If I die before my name is cleared, I hope that someone is able to tell those I cared about most that this Will is written with the wish that I leave this earth with no regrets and therefore my desire is to leave each person with what I feel they deserve most in the world._

 _To Narcissa Malfoy nee Black: I leave the silver teapot from the front parlor so that she may remember that she once valued family more than prestige and with the further hope that she makes the tea hot enough to scald her."_

The solicitor coughed slightly at the inclusion of this statement and there was a murmur of distaste from a few of the adults but Harry had to fight the urge to laugh. He found the comment about the scalding tea so delightfully Sirius that he couldn't help but smile. He was also surprised that Sirius had bothered to leave a Malfoy anything at all but found that he was slightly touched that his godfather had felt compelled to remember his cousins had apparently not always been nothing but Death Eaters to him.

"That's it?" Narcissa yelped, clearly livid. "Orion promised my mother that he would not forget about us. Of all the lying, thieving…"

"Mother!" Draco all but hissed in her ear. "Perhaps now is not the time?" He asked her pointedly, gesturing none too subtly to the rest of the room with his head.

Narcissa seemed to slip back to herself, "yes... yes of course darling. I was only concerned about Draco... you understand…it'll be needed one day..."

There were several eyes glaring at Narcissa but Harry found himself more intrigued than annoyed at the moment. If he didn't know better he was almost sure that Narcissa had no idea that she was addressing her teenage son next to her, but instead seemed to think… that he was somewhere else and much younger.

The solicitor cleared his throat and gave a pointed look of reprimand before continuing with the reading.

" _To Bellatrix Lestrange nee Black: I leave you nothing but my own contempt for you. I hated you in life Bellatrix and I can only assume that I will hate in you death but my only hope is that if I die in this war, I can take you down with me."_

The solicitor's mouth twitched as though he was amused before settling into a was frown of disapproval, and Harry knew that it was highly unusual for someone to leave such blatant ill wishes for a relative in their will of all places but Harry found the words an odd source of comfort. His godfather had not been able to take down the vicious witch with him but Harry would do what he could to ensure that the woman paid for her crimes.

" _To Andromeda Tonks nee Black: Andy you were always my favorite cousin and I wish that we had had more opportunities to see one another over the years. I know that you have questioned my judgment in the past and I know that I have criticized you for staying neutral rather fight against…er_ ," the Solicitor coughed and his eyes widened in alarm, "well will you permit me to change this name to You-Know-Who?" he asked uncomfortably, caught between his duty to read the will in its precise manner and his fear of saying the name of Voldemort aloud. The room nodded their assent, the reading continued. "' _You-Know-Who' but over the years I've grown to respect what you were trying to protect even if I still don't agree with how you did it. I leave you 5000 galleons and permission to remove any family heirlooms you desire from either my family home or the family vault, with the sole provision being that you must first ask the permission of Harry James Potter, as will be clear in the later sections of this document."_

Harry blinked at his inclusion of this provision and wondered why Sirius would have his cousin ask his permission to take back her own family's heirlooms.

" _To Ronald Bilius Weasley and Hermione Jean Granger- I want to thank both of you for the wonderful friendship that you have shown my godson over the years. Ron, I was impressed with the courage and stead-fast loyalty that you showed Harry on the night that we first met and you believed that I had come to cause him harm. Hermione, you are the most brilliant young woman that I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. I know firsthand that friendship is its own reward but you have loved Harry like family and to me that makes you both family as well. I leave you both 500 galleons each and the wish that all three of you find the peace and happiness in your futures that James, Lily and I sadly lost."_

Ron blinked a few times in surprise, he seemed to warring with himself over showing too much excitement over his new fortune when he knew that such wealth had only come at the expense of his friend's godfather's life. Harry flashed him a smile, trying to let to him know that in spite of the pain of Sirius' death, he was happy that both Ron and Hermione had gotten something.

He had a vague suspicion that this had something to do with the fact that Ron had been so jealous of Harry Fourth Year that he had believed that Harry had put his name in the Goblet of Fire. Harry himself had told Sirius how uncomfortable the fight had made him during their conversation in the fireplace. Perhaps Sirius had thought that by giving his friends some money, it would ease some potential tension between all of them, especially if Sirius decided to leave Harry some money as well. While Harry did not think that even Ron would be jealous of money that Harry got due to Sirius' death, he was touched that Sirius would treat his friends like family. He had always regarded Ron and Hermione as the only real family he possessed but knew that most people didn't understand why the two of them meant so much to him. Then again, given what James Potter had once represented to a boy who had been disowned by the very family that he had detested- perhaps Sirius had recognized exactly what Harry's friends meant to him.

" _To Remus John Lupin: Remus, my oldest and best living friend. If there was one person who could have learned the truth about what happened the night that Lily and James died besides Harry, I'm glad it was you. I know that we both have regrets from the past and I am truly sorry that we spent so much time distrustful of one another. You made the best decisions that you could at the time, I hope that you know that I understand them and in case you ever needed to hear it, I know that you're sorry for what happened so long ago but I forgive you and I know that Lily and James do as well. I'm thankful that we got to spend more time together and I am grateful for your friendship. I leave you 5000 galleons and if you even think about giving a knut away I will haunt you until you die."_

Remus smiled a bit ruefully and shook his head but seemed to frown a bit as the reading continued and Harry wondered if Sirius had meant more by saying that he forgave Remus than his stay in Azkaban. Why would his parents have needed to forgive Remus anything? Harry realized that there was so much that he didn't know about the months and even weeks leading up to his parents deaths but he remembered for the first time in a very long while that Remus had said that night in the Shrieking Shack that Sirius and his parents had once suspected Remus of being the spy.

" _And finally to my Godson Harry James Potter: To Harry I give everything else. This includes the remaining balance in my Gringott's vault, the deed to my family home (the details of which I leave only to Harry and the solicitor) and any and all heirlooms that you find and wish to keep. Unfortunately this also includes Kreacher and for that you have my deepest apologies._

" _Harry you are the son that I never had, the friend that I always needed and the very best part of my life since the day that you were born. If there is a decision in my life that I regret more than suggesting Peter Pettigrew as your parents' Secret Keeper, it is letting you out my sight that night. On far too many nights, alone in my cell in Azkaban I asked myself why I didn't fight harder to hold on to you. I should have fought off Hagrid with my bare hands and raised you myself, like Lily and James asked of me and like I had wanted more than anything._

" _I owe you an apology, Harry. I once told you that you were less like James than I thought, and I think I made it sound like insult, or something that you should change, but the truth is, I am so proud of the man that you've become. Brave, selfless, thoughtful. You do the right thing, no matter what it costs you and that is something that you can't teach someone. Your father was the best friend that I ever had, but as I sat down to write out my last wishes in this world I came to the realization that you are the person that I admire most and my hope is that someday everyone else will see in you what I have._

" _It is for this reason that I grant you full emancipation with the rights and privileges that go along with reaching majority. You have struggled with the burdens of adulthood for years, its high time you got the benefits as well. I'm sorry for all that was kept from you Harry, my hope is that you are told the truth before too much damage is done but if I am too late, know that I fought for you to know the truth and I know that you did the best with what you had. Trust yourself Harry, I know that I always have."_

Those are the concluding remarks," Tisdale ended softly.

Harry didn't realize that a few stray tears had escaped until he felt them fall from his chin, he hastily wiped them away but Remus, at least, had spotted them and he suspected that Mrs. Weasley had as well. Ron tactfully kept his eyes on the solicitor but he did clap a hand roughly on his shoulder in a show of support. Harry was grateful for something to anchor him, to keep him from falling into the chasm of grief his godfather's words had created in him. Harry was not simply mourning the death of a man that he had loved but he also mourned the childhood that he had been robbed of having through a series of tragic decisions. It had bad enough that he had lost his parents before he could properly remember them, but if he had been able to grow up with Sirius at least he would have some semblance of family. Happy memories to call up when he thought of his childhood instead of feelings of loneliness and even fear.

He cleared his throat and made certain his face was not in Malfoy's line of vision before asking, his voice rough but thankfully steady, "er…what happens now?"

"Well Mr. Potter most of the stipulations of the will are pretty straightforward. All appropriate exchanges will be made in accordance with Mr. Black's wishes. As you are the primary beneficiary, all other transactions will be accounted for first. Once the other accounts are settled you will be receiving a statement indicating that the remaining balance of Mr. Blacks' vaults have been transferred to your own as well as the deed to Mr. Black's property. However, the stipulation for your emancipation is a bit more…complicated."

Harry couldn't say that he was surprised. He had been very surprised that Sirius had included something like this at all and despite his shock he remembered that the will had been drafted late in May, and had apparently come after at least one other draft as Sirius had taken the time to renounce any prior documents. He knew that neither the Order nor the Ministry would like the idea of him being completely independent and would no doubt do everything they could to stop it.

"Why exactly is it complicated?" Harry asked as politely as he could. He had the distinct impression that trying to argue for emancipation while childishly shouting that it was 'all so unfair' wouldn't go over particularly well for his case.

"For one thing, despite being your godfather, Mr. Black was never your legal guardian, even with the fact that he's officially been cleared of charges, my records indicate that you reside with…your muggle Aunt and her husband, a Mr. and Mrs. Vernon Dursley, is that correct?"

"Yes sir, but my parents left Sirius in charge of me if they were to die, he was just never able to do it before. Now that his name is cleared, doesn't my…er custody revert back to him?" Harry asked, feeling awkward using the legal terms but feeling they were necessary. He suddenly wished that he had at least waited until Malfoy had left the room before saying anything, the last thing that he needed was to give the Slytherin more ammunition to refer to him as a poor discarded orphan.

"Well that's why it's complicated Mr. Potter. If Mr. Black's name had been cleared prior to his death he would have undoubtedly filed paperwork and considering the fact that your current guardians are muggles and quite frankly they would have had much to make up for in regards to Mr. Black, the courts would have no doubt awarded Mr. Black full legal custody. However, because he was only declared innocent post-mortem, no such paperwork exists and therefore your Aunt and Uncle maintain legal guardianship. There is the additional concern that given the present climate… well perhaps I am speaking out of turn Mr. Potter so forgive me, but if you will allow me to speak frankly, I find it unlikely that the Ministry would be inclined to grant a petition for full emancipation given…given your circumstances."

It took more self-control than Harry wanted to admit to not snap at the hypocrisy of a statement like that. The Ministry had made his life hell for the past year and had done absolutely nothing to stop the threat of Voldemort but now they were concerned about his supposed safety? However, that was hardly Martin Tisdale's fault and Harry was determined to not give any of the present Order member's reason to doubt Sirius' belief in him.

"I understand Mr. Tisdale, thank you for being honest. Is there…anything that I can do about the petition? Is there some kind of paperwork that I can file?"

"Harry…" Remus and Mrs. Weasley began at the same that Professor McGonagall interrupted with "Mr. Potter." They stopped at realizing that they had all spoken at once but to his surprise it was Andromeda that spoke up.

"Mr. Potter you and I are not well acquainted, and that is a relative understatement so excuse me if you find this intrusive but I think you should consider the wisdom of pursuing this. Your muggle relatives offer safety and not to mention needed structure and guidance. While the freedom of emancipation no doubt appeals to a young man such as yourself, at times maturity comes from accepting help where it is offered. My cousin had admirable qualities but he led with his emotions and his biggest fault was his recklessness. I hope you can learn from the mistakes that he made."

Harry had to fight down a wave of anger at her presumption and the fact that she would insult Sirius like that. Worse was the realization that almost every Order member agreed with her. His hands were shaking slightly under the table. The statement about the Dursleys providing him with anything like 'structure and guidance' had almost made him strike out but he promised himself that he would remain calm.

"Thank you Mrs. Tonks I…I understand what you're saying but I would still like to know what my options are. Mr. Tisdale, can I have a copy of the will? I," Harry had to clear his throat once more, this time emotion seemed to be nearly choking him. "I would like to have Sirius' last words if nothing else."

"Of course Mr. Potter, if you could just stay here for a few minutes I'll make sure everything is in order. I have a few things that I need to take care of but I also will need to speak with you in private."

"Why is that?" Mrs. Weasley asked sharply. "Shouldn't he have an adult with him…to advise him on these things?"

"The terms of Mr. Black's will are very specific ma'am. There are certain things that I am to discuss and give to Mr. Potter and only Mr. Potter. And despite his young age, Mr. Potter is the key-holder of his family vault, which does enable him to make financial decisions, at least according to the laws of Gringotts," Mr. Tisdale explained, not without apology.

There were a few none-to-subtle glances thrown around and Harry wasn't sure what upset the Order members more, the fact that Sirius had excluded them from knowing about a piece of his estate, or the fact that Dumbledore had seemingly made the mistake six years ago of allowing him possession of his vault key in the first place. Idly Harry wondered if anyone else could have held on to it, giving him enough money to survive each school year but not in full possession of his inheritance, without his knowledge or permission. It would not have been the first time he had been at the mercy of other people's demands and he was suddenly grateful for the small freedom that possession of the key gave him.

As the meeting wound down several people left. The first being the Malfoys, Draco leading his slightly dazed mother out the door. Tonks and her parents left too, with Tonks looking as though she was attempting to grab Remus' attention but the werewolf did not seem to take notice.

"Mr. Potter…Harry," Professor McGonagall said more gently than he had ever heard from her before. "Consider what Andromeda said to you. She might have not have had the most…tactful delivery but that does not mean that what she said has no merit."

Harry nodded and gave a few vague assurances that he would think about it. Remus also seemed to find the idea of a free and independent Harry a troubling concept and Harry couldn't help but feel slightly hurt that Remus of all people wouldn't support him in this. The Weasleys also got up to leave and Harry was surprised when Ron gave him a strong hug. He spoke quietly, keeping his voice at a pitch so that the other adults couldn't quite hear what he was saying. "Sirius always wanted the best for you Harry. I think he would be really proud of you for today."

"Thanks Ron," Harry said, still surprised by the depth of feeling coming from his friend. It was generally Hermione to talk to him like this.

"Harry... don't be afraid to write to us, alright? I know... I know you probably don't want to talk about it and I get that fine. But... talk to us about something, alright?"

Harry winced. His letters had been short and curt for the past couple of weeks. For that first terrible week when Harry had scarcely roused himself enough to feed and wash himself, he had sent barely more than a line stating that he was still alive. Even the past week when he had been feeling much more like his old self, he had not been able to bring himself to properly write his friends. He had pulled himself out depression- or perhaps the more accurate thing to say was his parents and Sirius had seemingly pulled him out- but he had not yet been able to bring himself to open up and speak with anyone about how he was feeling.

He nodded as he said, "I will. I'm sorry mate, I should have written more."

"Don't be stupid Harry, I know why you wouldn't want to. I just want to make sure that you know that me and Hermione will be there for you when you want us to be."

Harry smiled, "I know Ron. And I appreciate it more than you know."

The solicitor returned and called Harry into another office causing Harry to give a hasty final goodbye to Ron and his parents. Harry followed the short man out of the door with a feeling of excitement and apprehension. He was touched that Sirius seemed to trust him so implicitly and yet guilt licked at him as he realized where that trust had led him. He couldn't shake the feeling that this meeting was going to change things for him in some significant way and he braced himself- after all, in his experience most times when significant changes happened to him, he couldn't claim that they were for the better...

 **Thank you all once again for continuing to read and especially to those select few that choose to leave a review.**

 **For those wondering about the part where Harry has trouble tying a tie- I know in the movies Hogwarts students where a tie with their uniform and robes on top but in the books they make it pretty clear that wizards only robes. Wizards are consistently baffled by 'muggle clothing' which I took the liberty of including as a tie, so therefore in my mind Harry had never had the opportunity to wear one before and certainly had no one to teach him how to tie one.**


	4. Absence Makes the Heart

**Chapter Four: Absence Makes the Heart...**

Harry followed the solicitor into a dark paneled office and sat opposite the large desk. He had a fleeting feeling of déjà vu as the closest experience he had ever had with such a formal meeting were the times he had met with Dumbledore in his office.

"Mr. Potter would you like a cup of tea?"

"Er… I don't want to be rude sir, especially since you're helping me and everything but will this take very long? I just don't want to keep Remus and Professor McGonagall waiting for me," Harry inquired nervously, the offer of tea seemed to indicate a lengthy affair.

Tisdale smiled, the first genuine one that he had had all day. "No worries there mate, it won't take long. I just thought you might use this as a minute to catch your breath. You seem to have a lot of pressure from a lot of people. Perhaps some chamomile? I can only imagine how difficult a day this has been for you."

Harry looked at him in surprise at the observation but the solicitor only smiled again causing Harry to chuckle.

"In that case, thank you for the tea Mr. Tisdale."

"You can call me Martin," he continued, passing Harry a cup of tea which Harry took with gratitude. A moment to think for himself sounded wonderful. "I didn't want to make this knowledge too public but I knew Sirius. Your Dad as well for that matter. We weren't very close," Martin was quick to quantify, "but I knew them both well enough that Sirius felt that he could trust me to help you out a bit."

Harry raised his eyebrow, it was not lost on him that he had just inherited quite a bit of money and it seemed awfully convenient that he now had this mysterious 'long lost friend' to help him. "Sirius never mentioned you to me," he said warily, eyes narrowed. He now realized what had been off about the Australian accent, it was one that had been adopted over time, not one that was native and- as most accents were wont to do- the more Tisdale spoke with proper British speakers the more his native voice was heard.

Martin smiled again, "Sirius wasn't lying when he said that you had Lily's brains. James was the bloody nicest guy in the world but a bit trusting…" Martin cleared his throat uncomfortably, clearly realizing the tactlessness of such a statement. The comparison momentarily surprised Harry, he had never heard Sirius say anything about him reminding his godfather of his mother, they had usually only talked about James.

"I don't want to talk about money, Harry. That's for you to decide. If you honestly have questions I would be glad to help, or recommend someone for you to talk to if you prefer- and between you and me that's probably the smarter route. I'm not a financial planner or an investor. And I was not being modest when I said that I was not close with your parents or with Sirius. I was a few years older than them in school so naturally didn't always run in the same circles despite being in the same House, but... Sirius and James had a way of making a reputation for themselves wherever they went. People wanted to know them, and they were surprisingly good at remembering people. After I graduated..." Tisdale looked down, red spreading his cheeks at the coming admission. Harry could see that he was ashamed.

"It was the worst of the war and I didn't want any part of it. I'm muggleborn. My parents had no idea of the danger they were in, I had no real obligation to stay. I moved to Australia that summer. I've been there ever since." Harry pursed his lips, staying silent but disapproving. He tried to sympathize, understand that it was a scary time and not everyone felt that they needed to fight but to Harry the concept of doing nothing in the war was alien to him. He had made his decision to stand up against Voldemort at the age of eleven and had never waivered in his commitment. The fact that the Wizarding World was currently looking to him to stop the darkest wizard in centuries was bad enough but when he heard about people like Martin Tisdale that were more concerned with saving their own lives than with standing up and doing what was right, unwilling to fight even in the background while Harry was on the frontlines, it gnawed at him.

Despite the fact that Harry kept his face expressionless there must have been some note of disapproval in his eyes because Tisdale winced apologetically before charging forward. "Technically I still live there, but I came back for some business with the Ministry and it's been a very complicated matter. I probably shouldn't mention anything, it's all confidential after all, but as you know I primarily deal with probate matters. Nicholas Flamel and his wife passed away nearly three years ago. An estate like theirs..."

Tisdale shook his head, he had the look of someone who was tired of discussing a project that he had been discussing at length for a very long time. Harry blinked in surprise.

"Didn't they plan what they wanted to happen? I thought they made their wishes clear." Harry couldn't help but ask. A little over four years ago, at the end of his First Year, Dumbledore had told him that Nicholas and his wife had enough Elixir left to 'put their affairs in order', it seemed odd that the Estate was still being fought over after all this time.

Tisdale looked surprised himself that Harry would think to ask this. "Ah well...as I said most of this is highly confidential but due to the very long life that they have both enjoyed, the hereditary line is a bit...unusual. Wizards are of course used to having generally longer life expectancies than our muggle contemporaries and it not unheard to have four or even five generations included in will readings but in the case of the Flamels..." Tisdale sighed. "Not to mention the contention of passing down some artifacts that have since been declared illegal but had never been confiscated or destroyed due to 'grandfather clauses' intended for the original owners.

"Add to that the normal factions that occur in any large family and you can imagine the problems. However," and here Tisdale gave a rather dramatic sigh. "This was not at all what I wanted to discuss with you. My point was that I have been in the country to a certain extent much more that I originally intended and it was during that time that I eventually heard from Sirius again. As to your question, the reason that Sirius probably never mentioned me to you is that I very much doubt that he would have had the opportunity. As you know…Sirius was in a hard predicament."

"Understatement," Harry muttered.

"Cheers to that. But in the weeks leading up to his death he was… dissatisfied with some of the choices being made by the people around him. I don't know all of the details Harry. I'm not a member of Dumbledore's group- the Phoenixes or whatever they are- but it seems that Sirius was having a bit of a falling out with them about a month before his death."

Harry blinked, surprised by this revelation. He knew, of course, that Sirius had been desperately unhappy locked up in Grimmauld Place, unable to really contribute to the Order but he had never guessed that he had been close to splitting with them. "What exactly do you mean by 'falling out'? Was he trying to get out?"

Martin shook his head, "As I said, I don't know all of the details. We were only able to meet once after he managed to contact me in a way that convinced me to actually see him in the first place, and he was scant on real details. As you can imagine... well I'm sorry to say that it wasn't easy for Sirius to contact anyone that would have been real help to him. Of course despite whatever the _Prophet_ was trying to tell us there were still quite a lot of us that knew something wasn't right after that dreadful business at the school last year." Harry nodded and thankfully Tisdale felt no need to go into further detail regarding the Tournament or Cedric Diggory's death.

"When Fudge started trying to blame the mass Azkaban breakout on Sirius as well, I think most of us knew that something bigger was happening. As I said, I knew Sirius and James- they were still in Second Year when I was a Prefect but we still got on fairly well. They had a way of making people laugh." Tisdale smiled at the memory of simpler times and Harry found himself returning the smile, feeling more comfortable in spite of some of the reservations he still had about the man and his motives.

"For the record, I do know that Sirius had no intention of betraying Dumbledore or his group, but he did seem to disagree with some of their decisions, particularly when it came to you. I think he was waiting to see how much he could trust me before telling me the finer details but he wanted to make sure that your interests were safe. He worked it out so that I am officially on retainer as your personal solicitor until you are either emancipated or turn 17 and decide that you no longer require my services, of course if you decide otherwise I would be happy to continue."

Harry had to take a breath, shocked at the way the meeting had turned. Gaining his own personal solicitor was the very last thing that he had expected out of this meeting. "What exactly does that mean? I thought you said that you only handled wills and probate and things like that."

Harry wondered if Sirius thought that Harry was going to be killed by Voldemort or his Death Eaters and needed to put his affairs in order. Tisdale, however, only smiled. "I said that I primarily deal with probate law. I am however well versed in all other forms as well. Probably a bit better versed than a lot of people would think, truth be told." And the smile that Tisdale shot Harry was very reminiscent of the mischievous looks that the twins would give before doing something impossibly devious, which made Harry wonder. "You're going to make sure that I get emancipated after all?"

Martin hedged slightly, "if it's something that you really want to pursue I can absolutely help you but I wasn't putting on a show out there, Harry. I find it very unlikely that the Ministry would be comfortable giving you the rights of a full legal adult before they have to. They've gotten away with a lot in the past because of your age, and now that they not only have to make up for their public image but, judging from _Prophet_ articles that have been running non-stop, they also feel that you are in fact the best way to defeat You-Know-Who. They want you in a position where they have the control," Martin shrugged.

Harry nodded his understanding, still angry at the hypocrisy of it all.

"However, don't forget there are advantages for you still being underage, and even better- underestimated." Martin smiled and Harry returned it with only slight reluctance this time. He could see why Sirius approved of Martin, he had an easy confidence that lacked all condescension when speaking to him.

"What I'm really here for is to give you advice or help without the bias that some of the other… influences of your life come with. Sirius…" Martin smiled at Harry and there was a fondness that did not seem to stem from the deceased man directly. "He spoke very highly of you Harry. We were only able to speak a couple of times before… well, you know more anyone that Sirius' time was cut short but despite what a lot of others may think he did not spend his last few months completely idle. He was concerned about the direction a lot of things were going…I know I sound vague I apologize. The truth is, Sirius either didn't have time or simply didn't trust me enough to give me all of the details but he was very explicit in his trust in you as well as his desire for me to help you if you ever feel that you need it. As your solicitor, my loyalty and advice are for you alone- you don't need to trust me, you only need to know that I really have no other loyalties, if you understand my meaning."

Harry nodded, thinking over everything that was being said. He had always known that Sirius had looked out for his interests above anyone else's but for the first time he could see how much Sirius had seemed to fight with the Order over where his interests lay. He had learned the contents of the prophesy only after Sirius' death, and for the first time he was wondering if there was even more that he should have been told. It seemed to him that his godfather had been going to an awful lot of trouble to make sure that Harry did not need to rely on the Order any more than necessary- a sentiment he had been echoing in his own thoughts recently and he couldn't help but wonder if his godfather's endorsement made it better or worse.

"Thank you Mr. –er Martin. I think I have one question. You said in the reading that the Malfoys and... and the Tonks filled complaints about the will. Are you sure they can't do anything about changing it? What were they upset about?" It was easy to guess that the Malfoys would fight tooth and nail for both the money and prestige of the former Black family, but he couldn't help but be surprised that the Tonks' had also tried to go against what Sirius wanted. Harry could care less that he had been left the majority of the Estate. He hated Grimmauld Place and he had no need for more money, but the idea of them deliberately disregarding Sirius' last wishes made him angry. All anyone had ever done to Sirius was take things away from him in his life, the fact that they were trying to do it again in death felt like a slap in the face.

"Don't worry Harry, Sirius knew what he was doing. If there was one thing all Blacks are taught from an early age it's how to get what you want and how to keep ahold of what you have. Sirius might not have listened to anything else his parents had to say but he learned enough to make sure that they couldn't take what was his. Or should I say, what is now yours. The Black name comes with a certain weight in our world, a weight that Sirius never had the chance to wield and, were I to guess, never wanted to in the first place. I believe that both Narcissa Malfoy and Andromeda Black were expressing concern over the ability of a man that has not reached the age of majority to handle so much responsibility.

"What kind of responsibility?" Harry asked sharply. The will had said nothing about anything outside of monetary assets and suddenly Harry wondered what exactly Sirius had left him.

"Mostly voting proxies in elections and financial command of the Black House. You could use your status to attempt to get a seat in the Wizengamot when you turn of age. Although again Mr. Potter, I don't think I am telling you anything that you don't already know when I tell you that you wield more than influence in your own right without having to rely on Pureblood prestige- either from the Blacks or the Potters. As to your responsibilities to the estate, nothing particularly onerous."

Harry nodded, frowning in thought. He still had another year before he would be an adult, there was little that he could do now but already the _Prophet_ and other newspapers were asking his opinion, seeking his influence. The idea of having so much power made him nervous and slightly sick.

Harry took a deep breath and decided that he could worry about all of that later. For the moment, directing the masses of the Wizarding World was Future Harry's problem and he was intent on letting him have it.

"Thank you Martin. I can honestly say I don't think I need your help at the moment but… well if you know anything about me I can't claim that that will last." Harry flashed him a weak smile and Martin chuckled at Harry before clearing his throat.

"I do, however, have something else that Sirius wanted you to have. Technically I could have given it to you during the Reading but I rather thought you might appreciate a more private setting." Martin pulled out a square box. It wasn't particularly big, perhaps a foot in each direction and Harry felt his heart pick up. This is what he had truly wanted out of today. He did not need Sirius' money and he dreaded owning Grimmauld Place which Sirius had hated with a passion, but he felt honored that Sirius would leave him something that was for his eyes only.

Martin did not hand him the box right away. "This actually isn't from Sirius Harry, it's from Lily and James." Harry reared back as though he had been slapped.

"Wha…how is that even possible?"

The solicitor smiled sadly, "as you know, your parents were well aware of the fate that might meet them and therefore they had put their affairs very carefully in order. This was meant to be given to you when Sirius felt it appropriate. I believe that he had been waiting for either the right moment or else for you to turn of age," he explained at Harry's rather livid look at being kept from this for so long. "There's nothing of real monetary value in there of course, but I'd wager you'll find it valuable. There are letters and journals from your parents. I believe a few pictures as well."

Harry took the box carefully, filled with emotion that he was not sure that he could explain, but did not open it. He wouldn't do it here. He would wait. Savor each piece slowly.

After that rather dramatic reveal the rest of the meeting was mundane. Harry had a few papers to sign, he received Martin Tisdale's contact information with the explicit instructions to contact him if the need should arise. Less than an hour later Harry was meeting back up with his professor and Remus Lupin so that they could make their way quickly back to the Leaky Cauldron, thankfully with much less excitement than their journey into the bank had provided. The journalists had surprisingly seemed to lose interest.

Harry was quiet on the way back, letting the events of the day take hold of him properly. He sensed that Remus at least wanted to say something to him and vaguely Harry wondered if it had anything to do with the odd message that Sirius had left in the will about forgiving the last Marauder. He didn't ask, as much because he didn't feel that he had a right to pry as because he was too concerned with the contents of the box his parents had left him to worry about any other long held mysteries.

Mostly Harry was just grateful that night had fallen and he was able to keep his promise to the Dursleys, no one saw him return and he was able to return to them like the shameful secret that they found him to be. But tonight none of that bothered him. Concealed in a bag with an undetectable extension charm, he had brought back his box. For the first time in fifteen lonely years at Privet Drive he was going to hear from someone that had loved him.

It wasn't until Harry was in the safety of his own room that he opened the wooden box of mementos from his parents. He took a moment to appreciate the fine craftsmanship of the box itself. It was of an older design, one that would have been used during the 1700s perhaps and Harry wondered if his father had given him something that had been passed down in the family. Perhaps generations of Potters had opened this box, holding on to its treasures for the owner until it was passed down the line. The idea of a having something other than the cloak from his family was almost as great as what awaited him inside.

He let out a shaky breath, his hands trembling slightly as he used both of them to pry open the lid, noticing that the hinge of the box was stiff. Age had rusted it a bit and Harry had to move carefully for fear of breaking the precious relic of his past.

The first thing on top was a letter in familiar handwriting. It was a letter not from his parents but yet another from Sirius. As Harry thought about how much Sirius had had go through in order to insure that he was properly remembered in his will, a long held sob bubbled from his chest and a few tears rolled from cheeks. He was alone now and there was no need to feel ashamed of his crushing grief. He allowed himself a moment for his emotions to escape unchecked. Allowing the tears and sorrow that he had been holding at bay all day to be released, knowing that it was better to feel it now when he was able to lose a bit of control.

When he knew that he was not in danger of having any stray tears damage the papers he carefully pulled out the letter from his godfather.

 _15 June 1996_

 _Dear Harry,_

 _This box is full of letters from your mum and dad. They were forced into hiding about 8 months before their death and they knew that there was every chance that they might not survive. Lily in particular couldn't bear the thought of you never hearing from her. James wasn't much of a writer so don't take the small amount of letters personally. Trust me, the fact that he wrote anything at all means that he loved you like crazy. Bloody prat used to send me about two letters each summer._

 _I'm sorry that I never gave you this box when I had the chance. My plan is to give it to you this summer but I learned a long time ago that our best laid plans ever work out the way we anticipate. This may sound morbid (but I suppose if you're reading this not inaccurate) but for the past few weeks I cannot seem to shake the feeling that something bad is coming. The last time I had a feeling such as this it was in the final days of the war and Voldemort was closer than ever to finding your parents. I knew something was coming and it was with that feeling in mind James and I decided to do what we had been planning for quite some time- switching the secret keeper to Pettigrew. As you well know the decision was wrong but the feeling still had merit. I wish I could tell you that I knew what I was doing- that I was old enough or smart enough to figure out how to make things right and that I was writing to you with a surefire plan for victory. The only thing that Azkaban taught me for 12 years is that I'm not nearly as smart as I used to think that I was._

 _There is much that even now I don't understand about the last year of the war. It was scary time Harry. Dark days with no end in sight. Uncertainty is a scary thing. I think that almost anything can be endured if you know that it's going to end. And preferably WHEN it's going to end. I suppose you can understand this better than a lot of people Harry. For years you wanted to escape the Dursleys- do you think it would have given you some comfort when you were 8 years old if you had known that you only had 3 more years until you were able to leave, even for a little while? It helped me with my parents, I know that. We had no such assurances. The darkness seemed to stretch out forever and so I guess looking back I can understand a lot better the decisions that were being made at the time. For me, it was the decisions after the fact that I have trouble forgiving._

 _I am a man that has a made a lot of mistakes in their life Harry. I somehow managed to be arrogant and insecure at the same time. I was too reckless when I was young. Too angry and bitter when I was older. I hope that you learn from my mistakes, I hope that I have given you that much. It hurts me that the only thing I have to offer you is examples of failure and what not to do. If you're reading this now, I never got to say a great many things to you. Things I have wanted to say for 15 years. You are the son that I never even knew that I wanted Harry. I was never like James- never the type to settle down and start a family. I know you were disappointed in your dad when you saw Snape's memories but you're only looking at one event in a long line of them. Trust me... few people could hold their own against your father or myself for that matter but (and if you ever admit this to him I WILL return from the grave to haunt you) Severus was one them. You also seemed to think that Lily and James weren't happy together and I can promise you that they were. James loved Lily from about the first day of Third Year, maybe before that. She was it for him. I agreed with James on just about anything but I have to admit that I never quite understood how he could love one person that much. How he was so sure that he would care about her for the rest of his life when it seemed like that would be such a long time. But one look in your green eyes when you were a baby and I knew that I would never care about anyone the way I cared about you._

 _That's why I need you to know that no matter what has happened to me, know that I am proud of you. You are great wizard Harry but the thing that constantly surprises and amazes me is the fact that you are truly a good man. Perhaps the best I have ever known. So I write this letter to tell you that I'm sorry for my failures but also to tell you that I have faith in you. I'm trying to put some things in place so that you have more freedom to act but more importantly the right information to act on. Dumbledore has treated you unfairly Harry and unfortunately he's a man that is not only unused to acknowledging his own mistakes but a man that the rest of the Order believes is almost infallible. I think this is a dangerous idea. Dumbledore is a wise man- mostly certainly the smartest man that I know. His knowledge of magic is unparalleled and Voldemort has every reason to fear him. His opinion should always be given weight. But that doesn't mean that it shouldn't be weighed._

 _You are a much stronger person than most of the Order. They're followers Harry and will look for someone to tell them what to do. You're a leader. James was the same way. We would follow him before we even realized that it felt natural to do so. I wish more than anything that you weren't in this position, or you could have at least enjoyed a childhood before it was thrust on you as it was, but sooner or later Voldemort is going to be forced out into open and once that happens the Wizarding World is going to be in a lot of trouble. The Ministry waited too long to act, and the Order was too busy fixing its mistakes and keeping you out of a fight that you had every right to be a part of to do any real harm to Voldemort or his Death Eaters. I don't want you to think that I expect you to fix all the mistakes that we made, or to have all of the answers that we didn't but a lot of people in the coming months are going to give you a lot of advice and I didn't want you to wonder what I would have said to you._

 _So my advice to you godson is: Trust your instincts. Do what you think is right and trust that your friends will stay by your side. You chose your friends well Harry and Ron and Hermione will choose you over just about anything else._

 _There is a lot I have to tell you, things that you should know about the Order. Things you should know about the First War and the one that is only just starting. My next letter will explain more but I wanted to make sure that I at least got say the most important things first._

 _I hope that I get to tear this letter up and tell you all this person but I guess if you're reading it now, the worst has happened. I have one final request: for your dearly departed Godfather, please be sure to prank_ _Snivellus_ _at least once in the honor of a true Marauder._

 _Good luck Harry,_

 _Yours, Sirius_

Harry's hand shook with emotion but this time his eyes were clear. There was a burning in his chest, but it wasn't painful. It was warmth and determination and a furious pride that his godfather had respected him as much as he had. There was no second letter and looking at the date at the top Harr realized that the letter had only been written two days before his death. Sirius had intended to write more but had never had the chance. The incompleteness of the gesture left Harry feeling raw and he struggled against another wave of emotion.

He glanced through the rest of the contents in the box, not reading the words on the letters but just getting a feel for what he could expect. His mother had written him about a dozen letters, James only three but of a decent length.

He knew that he couldn't read them all that night. He was overwhelmed with emotion and he wouldn't cheapen the experience of reading his parents words in a rush or when he was distracted. He wanted to be sure that when he read them he was able to give them his full and undivided attention. As he came to the decision to wait, he further decided that he would spread out the reading of the letters for as long a period of time as he could. Saving them for when he felt that he needed them.

While he knew that he could always re-read them, he knew that the first time would always have the most meaning and he wanted to draw out his parents words as much as possible. Happy with the plan that he had created he looked at the last few items in the box. There seemed to be some letters that James and Lily had exchanged over the years along with five books. The first two were Lily's Sixth and Seventh Year potions texts. Harry idly flipped through them, surprised that they would be included and saw to his surprise that his mother had annotated nearly every page

The third book was journal of his mother's that appeared to mostly contain potion's notes but seemed to also serve as an intermittent diary. She had not written her personal thoughts often but occasionally as he read through it she taken the time to write about her frustrations with school, the escalating war and slowly…her developing feelings for a certain James Potter. The journal and her letters meant more to Harry than anything he had ever owned. In spite of his pledge to make the items last he couldn't help but at least look through the books with her writing. He had never before had something so tangible of his mother's words and feelings. For the first time he felt like he actually knew her. He studied each line, each turn of phrase. The way she was sarcastic even in her writing or the fact that she made her 'g's the same way that he did.

The fourth was the only book that had apparently belonged his father. It was an advanced Transfiguration text, well above Harry's level, with notes and tips along the margins. His father seemed to have no trouble with the difficult spells of the book and instead had offered ideas here and there of how to combine the knowledge with either Charms or Potions so that the effects were either more intense or longer lasting. Harry knew that he would never have come with the idea that his father seemed to jot down with idle consideration.

The last book was the strangest addition of the lot, it looked as though it hadn't even belonged to his mother or his father and he wondered which one of them had included the item in the box. It had come after his father's book so perhaps it was from him. The fifth book was yet another copy of the Sixth Year text and was similarly annotated but in a very different style than his mother's. After a quick look through some of the notes, Harry had seen that his mother had added helpful hints, possible suggestions or else reminders of how they related to other potions. Here and there, Lily had included thoughts about related topics as though she had been brainstorming in class, or else answering a professor's questions without saying them out loud (something Harry occasionally did as he had always hated raising his hand voluntarily).

The other person had almost completely re-written half the instructions. While James had seemingly written idle thoughts and musings, the pages equally littered with doodles or games of tic tac toe with Sirius, these notes seemed to have an exactitude to them. A precision that both James and Harry inherently lacked. Harry wondered who the book could belong to. Sirius was not nearly so precise. Remus Lupin had confessed more than once to lacking in Potion's skills- it was the reason he had needed Snape to make the wolfbane's potion. Certainly not Peter.

The inside cover merely read 'property of HBP'. Harry wasn't quite sure why the book had been included with the others but he supposed that whoever HBP stood for, he must have either been a friend of one of his parents or else one of them had gotten hold of the book somehow from a former student and used it to study. The spine of the book was in much worse condition than her own books making it look as though it were older than the twenty years of his mother's texts. The only thing that he was sure about was that whoever it was, the man was a wicked genius. Along with the re-written potions, there were notes on spells that seemed to be of the man's own invention. He couldn't imagine a Sixth Year student knowing a better way to do just about every single potion but this person apparently had. Harry knew that he had almost no chance of making it into NEWT potions' class this year and yet he couldn't help himself from reading over both his mother's notes, as well as HBP's. He could quickly see that he could learn more from this one book than he had after five years of lessons with Snape.

It was very late indeed when Harry was finally able to even think about going to sleep. The long events of the day, whirling around his mind. He wasn't sure what to make of everything yet but he knew for certain that in spite of Sirius' untimely death, his godfather had made sure to leave his mark on Harry in his own way.

 **Interlude: Hermione**

Hermione had returned from her summer holiday with a mixture of excitement and dread. The three weeks that she and her parents had spent in America had done her a world of good. She had not felt so calm and at peace in over a year. Ever since that moment when Harry had appeared outside of the maze clutching Cedric's lifeless body, and for a heart-stopping moment looking far too still himself, Hermione had felt a constant weight of dread in her stomach. From that day on, there had always been so much to worry about. Where was Voldemort? What was he planning? How many followers had he managed to get? When was the Ministry finally going to see reason and finally do something to stop him? Would Harry be alright? Would she, as a muggleborn, be safe? Would her parents? Was Harry going to go off and do something irrevocably stupid?

She had not told her parents the full extent of what was going on in the Wizarding World so as not to worry them when there was nothing that either of them could do. But when she had been seriously injured during the attack at the Ministry, the school had had no choice but to inform her parents- both of the injuries and the reasons for them.

Hermione had never seen her father so angry or her mother so disappointed. They could see absolutely no reason for why a group of teenagers had left school and gone hundreds of miles away without getting the help of a teacher. And then for them to learn that she had left to put herself intentionally in harm's way against trained criminals that wouldn't hesitate to kill her was considered unconscionable. The worst of it was that her parents seemed to place Harry fully responsible for putting her in undue danger and had spent the first week of her return from school continually disparaging her friendship with such a 'recklessly dangerous influence.'

Hermione had always spent more time talking about her studies than her friends but she had quickly discovered that when stating the facts of Harry's life baldly- he was not seen in a good light. Her father saw him as a blatant troublemaker whereas her mother was more inclined to see an orphaned child as a troubled youth that was 'acting out'.

Hermione was more than aware that part of the appeal of taking not only an extended holiday this summer but taking it across an entire ocean was to remove her away from Harry and, to a lesser extent, Ron's influence. She was so far away that even owl post couldn't reach them. At first this kind of behavior had enraged her simply due to its sheer condescension, did either of her parents believe that she would stop being friends with Ron or Harry just because she was forced away from them for a month? It made her think less of the both of them to discover that they seemed to think that friendships could end so easily.

However, once she had gotten there she had quickly gotten over her anger. There had been so much to see and do. They had travelled by car down the east coast of the states, stopping at the muggle major cities like New York, Charleston and even Disney World but also traveling to the Wizarding settlements in Salem and New Orleans, which had such a vibrant and colorful culture in both the muggle and Wizarding worlds that Hermione didn't think she could ever remember having more fun away from Hogwarts. Even the driving itself had been fun, with her parents alternating between listening to Audio books on the car stereo about the local history or else reading out loud from guidebooks. As much as Hermione loved learning about the Wizarding World and magic she often wondered if she was limiting herself by neglecting her muggle education. The magical world had no understanding of science or literature and it was nice to expose herself to this other world.

For three glorious weeks Hermione felt like an ordinary teenager and it was a feeling that she had not even noticed had become both foreign and welcome to her. She would not trade Harry's friendship for anything in the world but there was no denying that at times it was difficult being so close to someone in his position and all the stresses and worries that came with it.

As she entered her room for the first time she saw several letters on her bed almost all from Ron and only two from Harry. She wondered if that was a bad sign, of the two of them Harry had always been the more consistent correspondent, his isolation at the Dursleys made him rely on letters more than most students during the holidays. But she had only received one letter in the ten days she had been home before her trip and it had been the most unsatisfying letter she had ever received from him, and that included the time he had sent her a single line telling her that he had been attacked by dementors and might be expelled. It had simply read. ' _Thanks for writing, I'm fine at the Dursleys. Hope you and your parents have a great trip, sounds like it will be fun. Be sure to tell me all about it when you get back. Speaking of, I better get back to things here. Have a good holiday. Harry_

His unspoken hurt and discontent could be read easily between the lines and Hermione hated feeling so helpless, therefore it was not without a bit trepidation that she started on the bottom of the pile. The first letter was from Ron.

 _Dear Hermione,_

 _Hope this gets to you before you leave on your big trip. Did you say that you were flying there? Are you sure that's safe? It's just that you know how crazy Dad is about muggles but he told me that he's never figured out how arrow-plains manage to stay up there. But I guess you would know better than me. Things are alright here. Mum and Dad's friends have had to find a new place to hang out since they lost their last place, but I guess I shouldn't say any more about it. Fred and George have been doing really well with their shop and I think Mum's finally coming around on them not working for the Ministry._

 _Have you heard from Harry? Mum and Dad said that he's supposed to go to Sirius' Will reading. I'm a bit…[_ here there were a few cross outs _] well do you think he's alright?_

 _See you later,_

 _Ron_

Hermione frowned at Ron's tentative broach of his fears about their friend. Neither Ron or Harry were ever eager to discuss their feelings, consequences of being a teenage boy, Hermione supposed, but when push came to shove Ron was ultimately more adept at relating his fears and insecurities than Harry. Harry had developed a way of constantly looking out for other people while steadfastly insisting that he needed help from no one. When she stopped to consider how her best friend had grown up- so alone and surrounded by the rudest people that Hermione had ever encountered, she was constantly surprised that Harry had grown into the kind, compassionate person that he was. He had a peculiar blend of self-assurance in himself and his abilities, and a constant shadow of inadequacy. Against all odds her friend had carved out a life for himself and made himself into a person that people could really admire.

Somehow Harry had more tact than she or Ron possessed, both of them had a tendency to shoot off at the hip. She had gotten better with age but she knew that there were times when her curiosity or need to be right outweighed someone's feelings. It had taken her awhile to understand it, but she had a feeling that Harry was generally cautious about offending his friends because he had grown up so isolated when he was younger. There was this small but persistent fear that the people that he cared about would leave him if he made things too difficult for them, therefore it was only when Harry really lost his temper that he let anything out. And when that happened it was if there was a small explosion of emotion. Hermione supposed it was a consequence of that fact that, as a rule, Harry rarely displayed his feelings.

He rarely spoke of the Dursleys but the comments he had made over the years had painted an ugly picture in her mind. Harry never sought comfort because he was used to going without it and he rarely talked about his feelings because he was used to no one listening. Hermione was terrified that someday Harry would reach a point where he no longer knew how to bottle up his emotions and he wouldn't think to go to anyone for help.

Sure enough Harry's letter was next. As she broke the seal she noticed that her hand was shaking.

 _Dear Hermione,_

 _I'm sorry I haven't written to you properly. I know that you must have read my last letter and started pacing back and forth thinking about what kind of books you should read so that you would know what to say to me about 'grief' or something. I know that you are worried about me and I'm sorry that I've been such a bad friend to you this past year. I was angry about so many things- Voldemort, the Ministry even Cedric I guess, and I took it out on you more than I should have. I could make excuses but really I guess I should just say that I'm sorry. You and Ron are not only my best friends but the best friends that anyone could have and even though I've always thought that, it's finally occurred to me that I've never actually said it. I always thought that people just know these things but Sirius left me a letter in his Will and I realized that sometimes you need to hear from the people that you care about, that you matter to them._

 _I guess you know from my last letter that I really wasn't doing very well. 'Fine' seems to cover a very wide range of emotions, doesn't it? But I really am doing better now. I've been keeping busy. I've been looking over the Defense books that Sirius got me last year for Christmas, do you remember? I was so busy studying for OWLs (and pretty much being a prat most of the time) that I never really looked that closely at them. Sirius wrote a ton of notes and advice in the margins and even though it's sometimes hard to think about him, it's nice having something of him left behind. You should really be pleased Hermione, I've never enjoyed studying this much before._

 _Anyway, I know you must be away on holiday and I don't really expect you to get this letter or respond to it but I guess I needed to talk to you even more than I really needed you to read what I had to say. Does that make sense? I think I've been spending too much time with you, you've made me go soft. By the time you read this I hope you had a great holiday. Don't worry about me Hermione. If there's one thing I'm good at its pushing forward and moving on. If you see Ron before I do- don't you dare tell him that I've writing about my feelings, I'll never live it down!_

 _Harry_

Hermione only noticed that she was crying when one of the tears rolled off her chin. Just when she had been absolutely positive that Harry was going to send another short note with empty reassurances that he was fine, he goes and sends her the most heartfelt letter that's he's ever written. She had not expected him to apologize. She and Ron had both been on the receiving end of Harry's outbursts and temper and there had been times when both of them had been tired of it. They had tried hard to be supportive but it was hard to be understanding when she was getting alternately yelled at for caring or else ignored so that he could brood. And yet in spite of the difficult moments, Harry had handled the stress of the year remarkably well.

She couldn't imagine how he had handled so many different problems at once. The newspapers calling him either a liar or insane. The whispers at school. The pain in his scar that Hermione knew occurred far more than he told them about. Umbridge. The fact that Professor Dumbledore had not only left him in the dark when it had come to information but also had seemingly abandoned him when Harry had needed him most. The fact that there had always been the worry that Sirius would be caught and either thrown back in Azkaban or Kissed.

And there was still the events of the Tournament and seeing Cedric die. Of all things in the letter Hermione was most surprised that Harry had brought up Cedric's death. For the past year, Cedric's murder had been a strictly forbidden topic of conversation. Personally Hermione had been a little surprised that someone hadn't talked to Harry about it more. She would have thought that someone from the school would have made him talk about seeing something so traumatic, she knew that a muggle school would have done. She had tentatively tried to broach the topic several times and Harry had been more receptive to talk to her and Ron than with anyone else but he would only talk about the facts of what happened that night, flat out refusing to discuss how he felt or the impact it had had on him.

After reading Harry's letter a knot of anxiety in her chest seemed to loosen somewhat as she reached for the next letter. The next few were unexciting. Ron had seen Harry at Sirius' will reading and had confirmed what the letter had shown, he seemed to be doing much better. Ron appeared to be trying to restrain his excitement at receiving such a large sum of money and informed her Sirius had included her as a beneficiary as well. Ron was obviously conflicted about finally getting the wealth he had wanted for so long but at the cost of his best friend's godfather and a man that they had all cared about.

From vague hints and references Hermione had gleamed that the temporary Headquarters for the Order was the Burrow. Fred and George had been inducted into the Order against seemingly violent protests from Mrs. Weasley. Percy was still refusing to speak to anyone in the family and Ron and his siblings were still furious with him. Ron seemed to have found some sort of project to occupy most of his time but he was very tight-lipped about what it involved and Hermione could only guess that he didn't think he could write about it freely.

It wasn't until the last letter in the stack that there was the terrible shock.

 _Hermione-_

 _I'm sorry if you're still not home but you have to know about this as soon as you can. Harry's muggle relative's house burned down last night. I don't know all the details,_ They're _being really secretive. I'm sure your guesses are much better than mine anyway. I do know that Harry is alright but his Aunt is in hospital and there was some kind of problem with his uncle (you can probably guess what). Harry's been sent off somewhere but I don't know where. Mum and Dad said that he could stay here of course but for some reason the Ministry or Dumbledore or both want him in this top secret location. I wanted to let you know because apparently he's not allowed any post. Bloody unfair if you ask me but no one ever does. Don't worry too much if you don't hear from him or if you see something in the paper._

 _Anyway, I think you should be getting home in a few days and then you can finally write me back since I've started to feel like I'm writing to an imaginary friend!_

 _See you soon!_

 _Ron_

Hermione's mind raced over the possibilities, careful not to make assumptions when none should be made. It definitely sounded like an attack but that should have been impossible, there was supposed to be some kind of protection on Harry's house that kept him safe there. Harry had told them on the train that Dumbledore had finally explained about the 'blood protection' that kept him safe with his aunt. Of course Hermione had learned long ago that Harry had impossible things happen to him all the time. And more to the point if the protection that Harry was supposed to receive was in any way reliant on his relatives actually caring about his wellbeing than she could see immediately why it would fall.

But on the other hand, if it was an attack, how did Harry make it out safe? The Order. Hermione remembered. They were still watching the house and would have come if there had been attack. She was fairly sure that Ron had capitalized 'They' in the letter on purpose but with Ron it was hard to tell. Harry was much more secretive when it came to codes in his writings. Despite Ron's gift for strategy, he was ultimately too honest and straight-forward a person for subterfuge. More answers led to more questions about just what had happened but Hermione struggled to concentrate on what she did know instead.

Harry was safe. He was also probably miserable being stuck at some unknown location with no hope of hearing from anyone.

Hermione's thoughts and worries were interrupted by an unfamiliar owl carrying an envelope. She recognized the Ministry seal and immediately felt a flutter of anticipation. These must be OWL results. She accepted the letter and eagerly ripped it open only to realize that her assumption had been wrong.

 _Dear Miss Hermione Granger,_

 _Due to recent events the Ministry is doing everything in its power to help ensure the safety of every Witch and Wizard in the Magical Community. It has come to our attention that due to circumstances beyond the Ministry's control the instruction in Defense Against the Dark Arts has been fragmented and well below acceptable standards. It is with that thought in mind that the Ministry is offering a training course on Advanced Defensive techniques that will be available to all Fifth Year students and above for the nominal fee of 15 Galleons. We are also offering to waive this fee for all current and incoming prefects with the understanding that this training will benefit those students tasked with the responsibility of protecting the school in these difficult times. If you would like to participate in this course please complete the attached form, which will require parent permission, and return it no later than July 31_ _st_ _. Transportation to the Ministry for all students will be arranged._

 _Thank you and have a nice day,_

 _Tilda Mathis_

 _Senior Secretary of Educational Training_

 _Ministry of Magic_

Hermione was slightly stunned by the turnaround of the Ministry. Of course Fudge was going to be desperate to hold on to office, she had been prepared for any number of political maneuvering for him to maintain his constituents, but somehow the idea of Fudge actually training students- seemingly his worst nightmare a mere month ago- had not crossed her mind.

She wondered if part of the reason Harry's location was being kept so secret was because he was also training. She hoped so. Harry was by far the best in the year, probably the whole of Hogwarts, at Defense but in all honesty that wasn't saying much at all. Their first two years at Hogwarts had given them almost no knowledge at all, Lupin had had been a brilliant teacher but had largely taught them how to identify and combat magical creatures which was useful to an extent but not the primary skill they needed for a war. Umbridge was obviously the worst. Oddly the one teacher that had taught them the most had been the Death Eater Crouch disguised as Moody, but even he had largely done theory based lessons rather than practical ones. Other than a few class demonstrations, notably the lesson about the Unforgivable Curses, they had done very little actual magic.

Everything they had learned they had had to learn themselves, and no one had had harsher lessons than Harry himself. Hermione hoped that finally someone was going to give him the opportunity to learn from someone with experience. Someone that could show him how to do things properly because whether any of the adults wanted to admit it or not, Harry was going to be involved in the war sooner or later and personally she would rather have someone teach her friend how to fight than watch him run head long into danger with only his natural talent and luck to save him. Because she was starting to think Harry's luck was running out.

 **A/N: Thanks again for reading. I had someone point out that there seems be a lot taking without a lot of actual action or progression and I just wanted to promise you all that action will be in the next chapter- you can probably see that considering the letter Hermione just received. If anyone has any suggestions I would appreciate hearing them, this is the first story I've ever published and I could use the (constructive please) criticism.**


	5. Surrender of a Sanctuary

**Chapter Five: Surrender of a Sanctuary**

 _Twack. Twack. Thump._

Harry was panting but he continued to swing his fists at the heavy bag in front of him, his arms growing heavier with each connection.

"Not bad," came a slightly surprised voice from the doorway. Harry spun around and saw his cousin watching him use his boxing equipment with a mixture of amusement and surprise. "I didn't think that your kind learned to fight like that."

"We don't. I learned most of it from you and your buddies in primary school and the rest from Uncle Vernon," Harry explained with a bit of impatience.

Dudley actually looked a little surprised with this answer but Harry wasn't sure why he would. Dudley and his little gang had at least _tried_ to beat him up every day after school (and quite a few times during) for about six years, they hadn't always succeeded, but the record was a little more in their favor than Harry would have liked to admit. As for his uncle… Harry had learned long ago to keep out of arms reach of the man whenever possible.

"Er…well that explains why you're doing it all wrong. You know you're supposed to wear gloves when you hit that bag, and your stance is off."

"Aside from the fact that I don't actually have any gloves, what's the point? If you're going to hit someone, I doubt you're going to put on gloves first," Harry answered defensively.

"Planning on hitting someone in particular? Given your practice shots I would almost feel bad for the bloke."

Harry bit the inside of his cheek, slightly ashamed of the reason his cousin had caught him punching the bag as though it had personally done him wrong. He had started practicing on his cousin's heavy bag with the idea that if he couldn't practice actual magic he could at least teach himself some way to defend himself. Even if it was unlikely that muggle methods would work for very long against trained wizards firing spells at him, his thinking was that it wouldn't hurt to know how to attack someone if they were to grab him and he lost his wand. More than anything it else, though, it was a way to keep busy. He had been spending his days running, doing sit ups and push-ups. Move forward. That was his new strategy.

However when he had started practicing, first taking a few tentative hits and eventually finding a strong, steady rhythm, he had found it strangely therapeutic. After months of anger and aggression, of fighting against forces he couldn't even see half the time, it was satisfying to have something to take his anger out against. An opponent that would take his punishment without being able to hurt him in return and left him pleasantly exhausted afterwards. At least it was helping him sleep the past few nights and that was something he was in desperate need of recently.

His visions had returned with a vengeance.

Terrible images of torture and death and the very worst part was that he saw it from Voldemort's perspective. He felt his delight and utter satisfaction at causing such misery. The previous night he woken up shaking and fighting the urge to vomit as he remembered how disgustingly happy he had felt only moments before when he, as Voldemort, had watched as one of the Death Eaters had raped a woman in front of her small children, all the while the woman was pleading and begging for their lives. He had only woken up after Voldemort had sent the lethal green light spiraling towards them with grim satisfaction. Not even the white hot pain in his scar could distract him from the agony of knowing that the young mother had died in front of her children. He didn't think he would ever forget her frightened, tortured face. He wasn't sure if he wanted to forget. Someone needed to remember. Someone should care, especially since Harry was sure that Voldemort had not spared the children after the fact.

Harry wasn't sure if Voldemort was sending him these visions on purpose because he could, or if Harry was seeing them by accident but it mattered little. He was too late to warn anyone and he was unsure where it was happening anyway. He was a prisoner of his own mind, helpless to do anything. Communication with the outside world was once again limited and he was left to deal with the nightmarish images alone. He dreaded having to sleep, not knowing if that night he would get a reprieve. There was no pattern or reason to when the visions hit, and yet it mattered very little if he stayed awake… the memory of what he saw in those visions stayed with him at all times. His plan of moving forward had turned into a struggle to put one foot in front of the other, and yet move forward he did.

At least he had the heavy bag to take out a small piece of that despair.

Harry stepped back from the bag and glared his cousin with subdued distain. "It wasn't as though I was going to break your bag, if it's going to be in my room I should be able to use it," he argued defensively.

Dudley raised a single eyebrow, an action Harry had never seen him do before and was vaguely impressed he possessed the dexterity needed for such an action. "I didn't say you couldn't use it, I asked _why_ you were using it. I thought that you people only used…you know…magic," Dudley whispered the word magic the way a particularly sheltered teenager might utter a dirty swear word.

Harry rolled his eyes. "Yes Dudley we use magic but we can still do things the 'normal' way as well. I wanted to practice…I didn't think it would be so much fun," he admitted quietly. He was rather ashamed of how much the violent activity had helped to calm him down. He had grown up surrounded by Dudley and Vernon, both of whom had used violence to get what they wanted and he had always found it disgusting. He had seen on a daytime telly program that children who grew up with violent parental-figures often became violent themselves and he had never thought that he would be one those people. His new hobby was a bit disconcerting to him.

Dudley nodded his agreement to this statement, something Harry didn't take as a good sign.

"I kinda thought that when those people came by last week that you would be staying with one of them. Or with that other family that you stay with, the ones that came through the wall."

"Yeah well, I suppose they thought I was better off staying here for a bit longer," Harry said uncomfortably. This was longest conversation that he had Dudley had ever had about his other life, abstract as it was. Dudley seemed to be working up to ask him something but was making a series of stumbling attempts to make small talk first. At long last Harry decided to help him out.

"Is there a reason that you came by Dud? You already came by earlier this morning to work-out so I know you don't want to use your stuff."

"Er…well yeah actually. I mean I…I've been thinking. Last summer…with those…those whatever they were, did you, I guess what I mean is… do they make you hear…things too."

Harry took in a deep breath, unprepared for Dudley to bring up the Dementors after all this time, though in retrospect he supposed that he did owe his cousin an explanation. He, at least, had known what was going on that night and despite the fact that he had saved Dudley from the Kiss, his cousin deserved an explanation.

"Er…yeah I do, only I can see them too. Trust me, you're not missing anything. They're called Dementors and they're these mag- well evil creatures that kind of suck all of the happiness out of you. They make you relive your worst nightmares."

"And those…things are part of your world?" Dudley asked in horror. "I don't get it."

Harry blinked, "what don't you get? Why they exist?"

"No I don't understand why all you…wizards…want to be around this stuff that makes you miserable all the time. I mean…m-magic… it just seems like all it does is hurt people."

"Why would you say that?" Harry asked in surprise. "I mean apart from it not being 'normal', when has it ever hurt you?"

"You're joking right? That giant, scary bloke gave me that horrid pig's tail, I still have the scar from when they had to remove it in hospital. I was in the showers at school and there was this rumor that I had been assaulted and I didn't even have a good excuse I could give them."

Harry sucked in a sharp breath, completely caught off guard by the revelation. At the age of eleven and after years of taking abuse from his uncle and cousin alike, Hagrid's revenge on his cousin had been inordinately funny. Now it seemed unnecessarily cruel to do to such a young boy whom Hagrid had not even known at the time. Harry had enough experience with rumors and bullies to know what a story like that could have done to Dudley and possibly for the first time in his life, Harry felt an unusual swell of sympathy for his cousin.

But Dudley wasn't done yet. "When you did that magic during Dad's dinner party with the pudding, he lost a huge account and it was really hard with his boss for a long time. And then there was Aunt Marge and what those people did to my tongue…" Dudley swallowed hard and unconsciously grabbed at his throat. "I thought I was going to choke and die…"

"For the record, Aunt Marge was an accident," Harry said quietly, feeling slightly guilty for the first time about the Ton-Tongue-Toffee incident. He had always seen all of these incidents as payback for the way the Dursley's had treated him, but for Dudley it must have been terrifying to watch his tongue grow and not realize that it would stop. After being the victim of his uncle's wrath and his cousin's tantrums for so long, he had taken the Dursleys hatred of magic as part of their general nastiness and prejudice- he had never stopped to consider the impression of magic that he was actually giving them.

Aunt Marge, on the other hand, he felt no remorse for. She was a truly vile woman who had insulted his mother's memory with such relish that it still made Harry's blood boil at the memory. Nor did he for one second regret running from the house that night. He had been propelled by a combination of anger, fear and self-preservation. Had he stayed the only thing that might have saved him from his Uncle's thrashing would have been the magical-reversal squad arrival, but even then Harry didn't count on Vernon's temper simmering enough in only a few hours to save him.

"What about the pudding?" Dudley asked pointedly.

Harry's eyes shifted out of instinct towards the door to see if his uncle was coming. He wasn't afraid of his uncle anymore. He had long since learned the limits of what his uncle was capable of and full-stop murder was not part of it. After facing Voldemort and Death Eaters, Vernon's intimidation seemed rather weak but long habit had him wanting to avoid having his uncle overhear the conversation. And the memory of the punishment that he had received that night was not an experience he would ever want repeated. Harry might no longer fear his uncle, but he certainly did not forget what the man was capable of when in a towering rage, and it was something he knew he should not underestimate. Magic, he was sure now, alone had made it possible to face the Weasleys only a few days later without the tell-tale signs of bruises marring his body.

"That actually wasn't me at all. It's a bit complicated but I guess the short version is someone had come to the house to warn me about going back to Hog- to my school that year. They had found out that the person that they work for was involved with Voldemort, you know the wizard that killed my parents," Harry added at the blankness in his cousin's expression. "And that he was planning on going after me. He wanted me to stay here except...well" Harry actually gave a short laugh here to highlight the ridiculousness of that possibility, "well I wasn't about to do that so his plan was to do magic and blame it on me. You know that I'm not allowed to magic outside of school and he thought that it would get me expelled. Lucky for me I only got a warning from the school, unlucky for me I also got punished by Uncle Vernon," he added.

Dudley frowned, "this bloke was trying to help you by getting you expelled from school?"

Harry shrugged, "he thought he was helping." He didn't think it was a good idea to go into the fact that Dobby was a House-elf and therefore thought about things differently, he rather thought Dudley's head couldn't handle that much new information.

"But see that's what I mean, magic just messes everything up! Someone wanted to actually kill you? At a school? That's insane! It just seems like everything is made so much worse! I used to think it was just us… that it was worse for us because we're normal and you're…one of them but now," Dudley frowned at Harry, his expression appraising, "every year that you come back you just look a little more miserable. And you have those nightmares…" Dudley shook his head. For a moment he seemed as though he was about to say something else but he stayed silent.

Harry wasn't sure what to say to that at first and took a couple half-hearted taps at the bag that was between them. "There's good and bad in anything in life Dud. Magic can hurt people, but it can also heal them too. I guess…most things are what you make them to be, you know?" He said quietly.

"But are you actually happy there?" Dudley pressed, his tone and expression appeared as though he would not believe a positive answer to the question.

Harry considered the question, pausing a moment longer than he would have expected. A couple of years ago he would have been certain that there was no place better than the magical world. Now he knew better. Harry let out a slow breath. "It's not magic that makes me unhappy. A lot… a lot of things have happened the past couple of years and I'll be the first to say that the magical world isn't perfect, but neither is the muggle world. I guess it comes back to the same thing though, moving forward with the best that you can. Magic is part of who I am, and I wouldn't trade it for anything. Even the hard parts."

Dudley gave a kind of half-nod, as though he hadn't quite decided if he agreed yet or not.

"Do you…do you want me to show you some tips on boxing? I won my division last year and even though we wouldn't be in the same weight-class or anything you move pretty fast and you look like you could be a good feather-weight."

Harry blinked in surprise. Dudley had never offered him as much as his leftovers before. When they were younger and Aunt Petunia would give him the ratty hand-me downs that Dudley wouldn't have worn under threat of blackmail, he had cried and carried on about the 'freak stealing his stuff'.

"Er…sure Big D."

The next couple of weeks were almost pleasant by Privet Drive standards. The hot July days slid by with their usual tedium but Harry had found that as long as he remained busy it was much easier to deal with the loneliness and grief that he would otherwise have been feeling.

Harry had spent quite a lot of time going over his school books. He had even gotten two books on Occlumency before the summer had started. He had vowed to himself that he would never again allow anything like what had happened to Sirius happen to anyone else that he cared about again. But the progress had been slow. He had never been great at self-study and Occlumency was something difficult to practice by yourself.

He had been surprised to learn that Snape had not lied to him- one did need to clear their mind in order to perform Occlumency. He had been so angry at the end of the term that the idea that Snape had been lying to him the whole time had crossed his mind more than once, but both books were clear that the best protection of the mind was to clear it of stress, worries and thoughts. Of course unlike his esteemed professor the book actually gave him some tips on how to accomplish that. However…

Harry didn't think that Occlumency was going to help him. Or at least not how it was normally done. He remembered being possessed at the Ministry. As painful as it was he remembered two very important distinctions…one the intrusion had not come from outside of his mind but from _inside_. Whatever this connection was that he had with Voldemort it was a deep part of him, so trying to block an outside invader seemed kind of pointless to him. The fact that this connection seemed to be so deeply ingrained within himself was more than troubling- it quite frankly scared the hell out of him. His old fears of Voldemort taking him over and forcing him to spy on or even hurt the people around him resurfaced.

But the second thing that he remembered about the possession was perhaps even more important- how it had ended. Harry's mind had not been blank. If anything, there had been an approaching numbness after the events of the day when Voldemort had _entered_ his mind, however, Voldemort had not been stopped by a blank canvass but by wall of emotion. A crushing storm of grief and loss and…love. Desire for the ones that Harry cared about most had saved him. Sirius had saved his life in that moment and Harry was not about to forget it.

Still if there was one thing that he had learned last year it was that he needed more than his gut instincts alone, he needed to understand what his instincts were telling him. He felt it was a subtle difference from what Hermione would have told him- that gut instincts were nothing but emotion and that real answers came from facts. Harry, unlike Hermione, trusted his gut but he refused to go into a situation blind again. Therefore he read both Occlumency books carefully, re-reading certain passages that seemed most important, but the more he read the more he felt that this was a situation that he needed to figure out on his own.

No one else had ever survived what Harry had survived, nor had they shared such a unique and terrifying connection with a murderer and enemy. It bothered Harry more than anything that Dumbledore had not seen that. Dumbledore, who understood more about the strangeness of Harry's scar and the events of that fateful Halloween's night than anyone had never once taken the time to speak to Harry himself about it.

Harry had often felt last year that it was unfair that he was not told anything about the war- as though he were a mere child. Last year most of his resentfulness had come from the fact that he had felt that he personally had deserved the curtesy of knowing more since he had been the one to inform the world of Voldemort's return in the first place. And truth be told he still felt that way. It may be selfish but Harry was more than willing to do his part- and to make the necessary sacrifices. He held absolutely no delusions about how the war could end… would probably end. Voldemort had had a good 60 years of experience to build on before Harry had even existed. He had spent years thinking and planning and stewing on his revenge. And there was the small but critical problem that he was seemingly immortal at the moment, although Harry doubted that he truly was despite all the effort the man had put into making himself that way.

Harry knew that to say that he was the underdog would be an understatement. And he had made his peace with that- or had tried his best to. But in exchange for all that he done, was willing to do and was likely to give up- he did not think that it was asking too much to ask for simple information in return. However, those feelings were now secondary to the fact that Harry felt that it had been foolish of Dumbledore not to use Harry as a resource. Foolish of him to place others in danger simply because the man had refused to consider that a 15 year old might have had something to contribute about a unique magical connection that only _he_ had ever experienced. He found it arrogant of the man, no matter how smart or great a wizard he was, to assume that he had all of the answers to something that no one but Harry had experienced personally.

Harry had learned the hard way that Dumbledore made mistakes and that the Order was likely to follow whatever Dumbledore said regardless of whether or not it was a wise decision. He hoped that things would be better. That Dumbledore had learned that it was better to include him, but he knew better than to count on it. Harry had always done well on his own. He had made a grievous error in believing his vision and going after Sirius, he was all too aware of that fact, but he did not believe that he was wrong to _act_. He would not stand on the sidelines. He wanted to help Dumbledore and the Order- but he knew enough to know that he could not rely on them. He needed to be prepared in his own right.

The defense books that Sirius gave him were fabulous. Sirius had taken the time to give him dozens of tips and advice, guiding him to things that he agreed with, telling him to avoid tactics he had seen fail. Harry rather thought that if Umbridge had at least given him those volumes to read during her endless 'classes' he would have at least learned something. Of course learning actual defense wasn't really the point of her classes, was it?

But the real treasure was the box of letters and journals from his parents. He had managed to hold off on reading them all but he had read a few of the letters left behind, including his father's wedding vows.

 _If I had the rest of my life to tell you how much I love you, I wouldn't have enough time. If I ever had to live another moment of my life without you, it would be a moment too long. Lily since the day I met you I wanted to be a person worthy of you. I know that I haven't always lived up that, but you are the reason I aspire to be better. Someday the war is going to be over and you and I and our 8 children- I think we should have enough for a Quidditch team but we probably need a reserve player or a sub just in case one of them doesn't want to play, don't you think? Someday we are going to live a peaceful life but I want you to know that as long as I have you, I will always have a happy one. I would tell you that I will love you till the day that I die but that's not nearly long enough Evans- you're stuck with me for all eternity._

Harry had had tears rolling down his cheeks as he read the words his father had once spoken to his mother. He had never loved anyone like that and wondered if he would ever have the chance to in the future.

True to Sirius' word, Lily had written extensively to him. Pages upon pages of advice, stories and reminders that she had loved him. He could see that there were times that she almost forgot that she was writing to her infant son, so caught up in her worries and grief in the war that she shared more than a mother probably would have with her son. But Harry was grateful. He didn't want a bunch of empty words telling him that she knew would have be proud of the man that she would never see him become or that she loved him. Or rather, he cherished those words deeply but at the same time he loved that he was able to see her as she really was. Worried, perhaps frazzled or overwhelmed. She had written to him like a true friend and confidant and he only hoped that by writing some of these letters some of her worries and stress had been relieved, if only temporarily.

James transfiguration book had proved to be easier to understand than Harry had first thought. He was not the natural at the subject that his father had been and had needed to look up more than one seemingly off-hand reference the man had made in the margins but the explanations next to certain spells made the art seem easier than it had ever been in McGongall's class.

But it was the potions books that were the biggest surprise. His mother was simply brilliant. She understood every potion on a level that was not only academic but passionate. Harry couldn't help but think that if he had learned potion brewing from his mother he too would have appreciated the finesse it took. Better still was the knowledge that he learned from the mysterious HBP. A man that Harry practically worshipped as his genius at the subject made Hermione look incompetent. He had never met a student with a better grasp of knowledge and Harry found himself unexpectedly caught up in the stranger's clear passion for it.

July was drawing to a close, his birthday was a little less than a week away and Harry was sleeping fitfully. For once it wasn't his scar and Voldemort's sadistic nighttime activities but his own tortured memories. Sirius was falling through the veil once again and this time no matter how hard Harry tried he couldn't reach him.

" _He's gone Harry…_ "

" _He's gone Harry…_ "

Harry woke with a start. He was panting as if he had run a mile but was otherwise quiet. He had learned to be almost silent in spite of his distress. Years of sleeping down the hall from his violent Uncle and trying to avoid the embarrassment of the boy's dormitory had worked wonders on his survival skills. There were some nights when it was unavoidable, but for the most part Harry had gotten very good at hiding his distress. After all, he had learned to hide it in the daylight hours years ago- he considered this merely taking things to the next level.

His heart was pounding and it took him several deep breaths before his pulse was back to a normal rate. It had been a few weeks since he had dreamed of Sirius like that. He was just settling back against his flat pillow when he heard it. Hushed footsteps, a whisper, the door was opening.

"Stupefy!" the body hit the floor and Harry kept his wand raised, still in shock, steeling himself for another threat. He had taken to sleeping with his wand under his pillow and had reacted faster than conscious thought. For a heartbeat of a moment he thought he had accidently stunned his uncle and worried about his inevitable expulsion for underage magic- there would be no excuse this time. But no, he had been right. The man in front of him wore black Death Eater robes and a white mask that Harry could only see the edges of as the man had fallen face down.

"Stu-"

"Stupefy!" Harry was faster once again. Neither man had anticipated any resistance and had not been prepared. Harry rolled off the bed so that it was between him and the door. He crouched low and came up against the wall in case more of them were coming. After a moment, no one came and Harry risked a cautious look around the corner and into the hall. He was alone.

He whispered a charm and pulled the bodies fully into the room and then closed the door. He was guessing that they were working in pairs. The Death Eaters hardly would have thought to bring a dozen trained killers to attack him when he was supposed to be asleep. If there was one thing that he was learning to appreciate about Voldemort was that at least the man was nice enough to consistently underestimate him. However, Voldemort also would not be kind enough to spare his relatives nor would he not think to order some sort of back-up just in case. Harry accioed both of the unconscious men's wands just as he heard a scream pierce the night. It was his aunt and Harry knew the sound- they had her under the Cruciatus Curse. Uncle Vernon was yelling and sputtering and no doubt cowering. Harry felt a pang at the realization that for the first time in his life Vernon was completely right to be petrified of wizards. The thought brought Harry no satisfaction though.

He heard another scream and knew it was Dudley. Harry screamed. Long and torturous and completely heartfelt. He needed the others to think that the pair that had been sent after him, had found him. Harry, unlike his relatives, would not be killed in this house. He was fairly certain that no one but Voldemort himself was allowed that particular 'honor', but the 'Dark Lord' would not deny his followers the right to a little fun. He heard wild, insane laughter and was reminded of Bellatrix, but this voice was definitely male. Still the memory of her burned within him and Harry's first instinct was to run out and attack them for coming into his house. But he couldn't do that yet. Harry needed to be smart about this. "Hedwig…"Harry whispered. "Go get help." He wanted Hedwig far away and he knew of no other way to contact the Order. A problem one would have thought Dumbledore would have thought about…

He wondered idly what had happened to the Order guard that was undoubtedly still assigned to him. He doubted Mundungus had happened to wander off a second time. Which meant that they were likely dead. He didn't think that Death Eaters would be satisfied with simply stunning. His stomach turned at the thought of yet another person dying to protect him. He swallowed and let out a slow breath. He couldn't think about that at the moment. Not yet.

For a moment Harry eyed the two figures in front of him. It would be an easy spell, he thought. He didn't even need to cast the _Avada Kedavra_. Not with them unconscious like they were. They would deserve it. Harry would probably be saving lives. Was it right to let them survive to kill and destroy more lives just to save Harry his delicate sensibilities?

No it wasn't.

Since hearing the prophecy, since the night of the Third Task if he was being honest, Harry had known that he would be both required and willing to sacrifice every piece of himself to this war. His life and his innocence stood be casualties in the coming fight but Harry accepted that. He would do what was needed no matter what it cost him.

But that wasn't why Harry wasn't going to kill them.

It was because there had to be a difference between the two of them. It couldn't come down to who killed the most people, the war wasn't about that- not at its core. Harry didn't know where this sudden certainty had come from- but it _was_ certainty- and Harry was a man that trusted in his instincts. He screamed a second time, choking it off like a sob and waiting a beat. He could hear the screams of his relatives, the laughter of the Death Eaters. So far they didn't suspect anything was off about their plan of attack. He left the figures where they lay and made his way quietly to Dudley's room.

There were two more here and they seemed to be taking turns cursing his cousin while the other laughed. Harry remembered Dudley saying that nothing good ever came from magic and at the moment he could almost agree with him. He and his cousin had almost been getting along recently. They spent an hour or two a day working out with the heavy bag, Dudley giving Harry some subtle hints and advice. Harry answering questions he had never thought that Dudley would ask him. Some had been about magic, a few about his life at Hogwarts but really what Dudley was interested in Harry's friends. Or how to ask out a girl. Or if Harry had managed to kiss a girl. Or had sex.

Harry had flushed at the questions initially, feeling at first that Dudley was attempting to make fun of him for his lack of experience but Dudley had been genuine. He had seen Harry with his friends and had figured out that he must have more. Dudley had not come out and said it directly but Harry had quickly deduced that Dudley's friends at Smeltings were limited. And his dating life rather non-existent. While Harry's love life had been disastrous by his own standards, he had a few reasonable extenuating circumstances. Like the fact that he had a war to worry about. Like the fact that his government was working a smear campaign against him to make him look a cross between insane and a deliberate liar. Like the fact that the girl that he fancied had still been grieving her dead boyfriend and that Harry had been the last one to see him alive. Harry had to assume his situation was not quite typical for most fifteen year olds attempting to dip their toe into the dating pool.

Harry hadn't said much about his own experiences but he had managed to give a few choice words of advice based on what he imagined Dean or Seamus might have done. Dean and Seamus could be immature and Seamus especially had royally pissed Harry off in the beginning of the previous year for being ready to believe the _Prophet_ over Harry's word, but he had to admit that it was at times nice to listen to the two boy's problems or jokes. Their worries at times felt almost refreshingly mundane to Harry, though he would never have said as much to either of their faces.

Living in a dorm with five blokes will give anyone a fairly decent idea of at least what _not_ to do with a girl- Seamus had come back at least once every two weeks with a new dating disaster story- and Harry had related his newfound knowledge to Dudley with the good humor that his two dormmates had given it to him with. And he and his cousin had grown closer because of it. Harry had discovered in the past couple of weeks that he and Dudley could actually get along, perhaps not as good friends but no longer as the enemies that they had grown up as. Now Dudley was screaming and crying and based on a new pungent odor, soiling himself.

"Silencio!" Harry whispered, pointing his wand at the doorframe. He was not certain it would work, he had never cast the spell on a whole room before he did not want the other Death Eaters to overhear an attack before he was ready.

"Stu-" Harry began  
"Expellermius!" Harry jumped out of the way of the curse. This time the others had been better prepared. They must have heard his approach before he had cast the silencing charm, or perhaps it was the silence itself that had tipped them off.

They traded curses. Harry's missed the mark but he could see that he was able to move faster than either of his opponents. Suddenly he was very grateful he had spent a summer developing muscles he had never had before.

"Protego!" Harry's shield reflected back the curse and one of the figures dropped. But a burning pain on his side let him know that he had been distracted enough not to watch his other opponent. The man had transfigured a video controller into a knife, banishing it in Harry's direction. Harry summoned the TV and threw at the man, hitting him even as Harry narrowly avoided more of the knives, this time heading for his chest but instead nicking his arm. Both of the Death Eaters were down but Harry was bleeding, he glanced at his left arm, thankful that it wasn't his wand arm. It was good news, the cut wasn't deep… unlike his side which was bleeding at faster rate. He quickly sent two more stunners at both men to ensure that they were really out cold.

"Dudley," Harry snapped sternly staggering towards his cousin, determined to ignore the pain for the moment. Nothing major had been hit, he would be fine until he got the Dursleys out. Tried to get them out…

The larger boy was hyperventilating and seemed to be going into shock. Harry grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him but it was to no effect. Finally, out of options, he smacked him across the cheeks. He winced as he realized that he had left a red smear on Dudley's cheek, his hand covered in his own blood. It didn't appear that his cousin had noticed.

Dudley blinked slowly. Harry could see out of the window. The street was deserted, it did not look like they had sent anyone to guard the street. They would not have expected muggles to put up a fight. And if they had sent an army, Harry expected that they would have flaunted it. Still…he couldn't risk it. They could be disillusioned or under invisibility cloaks. "Dudley you have to listen to me. Listen carefully, do you understand?"

Dudley nodded. "Do you remember Mrs. Figg's phone number?"

"What?" Dudley asked dazed.

"Dudley!" Harry hissed in fierce whisper. "Focus right now or I'm gonna smack you again. Do you remember Mrs. Figg's….wait, Aunt Petunia probably never changed it. Dial number seven on the speed dial. Get Mrs. Figg, tell her it's an emergency. Tell her right now. Speed dial 7, can you do that?"

It might have been faster to do it himself but he had to go after his aunt and uncle and he needed to give Dudley something to do to keep him from going into shock, but he couldn't have either of them leave the house. Not yet.

Dudley's voice was slow at first. "I can do it Harry. Harry…come down with me. We have to leave. We have to ring the police." His voice was growing with panic and alarm. His eyes looked strangely dazed, his pupils hugely dilated. Harry glanced worriedly at the door, his inexpert silencing of the room was bound to fail sooner rather than later but he had no idea when it would (had it already happened?).

"Shh Dudley," he hissed, his voice barely above a whisper but his tone was firm and his words strong. He set his face into a stern mask and gripped Dudley firmly by the shoulders. "Do what I told you to do. I have to get your parents. Do not come upstairs. If you hear someone come down and you don't hear my voice, hide. Do not leave the house. Do not yell out. Do you understand everything I just said?"

Harry wasn't sure what he was doing. He was preternaturally calm. Dudley's panic steadied him. Later he could second-guess but right now he needed to be in control and he needed to be sure of everything he was doing- no matter what.

Dudley nodded, this time more firmly, his voice also a whisper. "Be careful Harry."

Harry tried to grin, but it was too painful to be anything other than a grimace. "It is going to be fine. Go."

His aunt and uncle had been screaming the whole time, but at least the noise had masked their conversation. Just in case Harry muttered the countercharm to the silencio spell and was surprised when he felt a tremor of his magic respond. His adrenaline was pumping so hard that he was unusually responsive to the magic around him. He hadn't been sure that the spell would work on such large area, in class they had always done it on a specific object. Harry held up one finger at Dudley and gave him a firm nod, before screaming once again as though his life depended on it. Dudley's eyes widened but didn't say anything. Harry hadn't wanted him to. Dudley had been quiet, he wanted the others to think that was too hurt to scream anymore.

Dudley left and Harry crept towards his aunt and uncle's bedroom, a place he had avoided since the age of four and he tried once to go to them after a nightmare. Once had been enough.

Harry crept slowly down the hall, pointing his wand behind him and using it to quietly lift the bed that he could still see through the open door and slam it heavily on the floor, trying to make it sound as though the Death Eaters were still occupied with hurting someone in there. It was hard trying to appear to be in more than place at once. He had been lucky so far, four targets and so far only a couple of largely superficial injuries, but he was well aware that it would be a terrible mistake for him to become overconfident now. His mind whirled quickly over everything that he knew of his attackers. He wondered where Bellatrix or even Dolohov or Rowle were. The group that he had seen so far were most definitely not Voldemort's A-team and Harry did not think he was being arrogant to be surprised by that. At first Harry had thought that Voldemort was choosing to underestimate him but he was beginning to wonder if that was completely accurate. Voldemort was a man that liked a big show and now he had something to prove. Harry had escaped him four times, five if one were to count the memory of Tom Riddle. As far as he knew the only person to survive more direct attacks from the man himself was Dumbledore. Harry knew enough of Voldemort's ego to know that he would never allow a lowly second-tier Death Eater to accomplish what he could not, not if there was another way. Did that mean that for some reason Voldemort and his Inner Circle couldn't come to Privet Drive? That the Blood Protection while most definitely fractured was not actually broken entirely?

He couldn't think about it now. He snuck up on the door and jumped back in surprise as the wood splintered around him. Harry had raised his arm just in time to block his face, rolling to the left, he lifted a shield before doing anything else. There were three of them in here and they had been ready for him. Harry suspected that he should have kept up his screams from the other room. They had grown suspicious.

His aunt was letting out erratic shrieks and twitching roughly. Vernon's pajama jacket was in tatters and there were vicious looking marks- as though from a whip- burned across his chest. Harry's disarming spell was blocked with ease and a vicious leer from the dark-cloaked man let him know that he was quite happy that he was able to fight a proper wizard instead of having to attend to mere muggles that couldn't fight back.

The man threw a powerful slashing cure at Harry, who raised a shield and reflected the curse back with force. There was a gasp as the man moved instead of raising a shield of his own. He could hear his uncle breathing hard, gasping for air and as Harry used his wand to banish large picture frames in the path of his attackers, thoughts of a possible heart attack flashed through his mind.

The glass from the frames shattered when Harry hit them with a dissendo spell, flinging the shards at his attackers. Vernon was still gasping but it was interspersed with a few of his choicest swear words, his eyes were wide with terror as he watched Harry slashing his wand left and right, firing off spells as quickly as he could against the two skilled wizards.

Harry was forced to throw himself to the left just in time to watch a large section of the wall behind him explode and now he could see lights from outside starting to flicker on like overly large fireflies. With the screaming he was surprised it had taken the neighbors this long to respond. Generally they were eager to discover any kind of unusual anomaly on the quiet mundane street. Harry could only hope that if Dudley had somehow failed to ring Mrs. Figg then she would hear the commotion and send for help.

Harry blocked himself just in time to avoid a dark purple curse, headed straight for his chest. The curse hit the shield with the sound of a deep thud, reminding Harry of that gong-like sound that he heard Dumbledore produce against Voldemort's attack at the Ministry. The force of the spell literally pushed him back on his feet and a cold sweat had broken out on his forehead as Harry struggled to fight against all three attackers while still considering what he could do for his relatives.

For a brief moment there appeared to be a stand-still. Harry could hold himself off with the strength of his shields, but he could do nothing to help his relatives. And as soon as Harry realized it, he knew that the Death Eaters had reached the same conclusion. The one closest to his aunt slashed with his wand, cutting her deeply across the thigh. She whimpered and looked up at Harry with an expression he had never seen on the woman's face before. It was a pleading, raw look of fear that somehow made her look much younger, more innocent.

Harry was forced to drop his shield as he rolled to the side, shooting off a blasting curse, hitting the wall behind the attacker and leaving a hole of his own in the plaster. He could hear shouting outside and not just muggles, he could hear spells and a quick glance outside showed two groups of people firing spells at one another. It was too dark to distinguish the color of their robes but he could see that closer to the house the wizards were wearing masks. These weren't Order members, they were Aurors.

There was a look of panic as the Death Eaters also realized that they were no longer facing one underaged wizard and some muggles but instead trained fighters. "We need to get out of here!" the one on the left shouted, slashing his wand and banishing the heavy dresser in Harry's direction, forcing him to block it from himself and his uncle who had someone moved behind him.

"Incendio!" The spell was echoed on each side and soon the house itself was in flames. Added to the cacophony of noise- shouts and spells echoing into the night air- was the sound of blaring muggle sirens although Harry didn't know if this was a help or not.

"Dudley! Out the BACK! Run!" There was nothing for it. The house was going to be swallowed by flames and Harry could only hope that the Order or the Aurors were able to help his relatives.

"Impedimenta!" Harry screamed, his voice cracking from yelling so much. The Death Eater was pushed back just enough to give Harry the room that he needed. He blasted out the window and gave his aunt just the most fleeting look of apology that he could manage. He banished her out of the window. His uncle yelled in shock but it was swallowed in shock as he quickly followed.

They were out.

Harry sent the strongest blasting curse he knew at the ceiling and let it rain down on top of the remaining Death Eaters, and then he ran for it, ducking just in time to avoid another curse to the head.

"Accio!" He summoned the possessions he kept beneath his bed. The few priceless treasures that he owned that could never be replaced. His cloak, the map, the photo album of his parents and their box of letters and mementos. He caught them as he ran and threw them in the still open trunk in the corner. The fire was spreading and quickly. He was sweating in earnest now and black smoke was making it difficult to both see and breathe. He could hear terrible screaming and he knew that one of the Death Eaters was being burned by the fire. He wondered if it was one of the ones he had just been fighting or if the pain of death had woken one of ones that he had stunned.

He sealed the trunk and banished it out of the closed window, watching as it shattered the glass down on the fighters below. He glanced behind him but it was too late, the seconds that he had taken to ensure that this possessions were safe had meant that he was fully trapped inside of the room. A wall of flame fell from the ceiling in the hall and it was only with the reflexes of a finely tuned Seeker that Harry had managed to get out of the way in time.

He was preparing himself to jump when he realized that the first two Death Eaters, the ones that had intended to come after him, were still stunned on the ground. The fire was licking at their bodies, there was a nauseating smell of cooking flesh coming from the next room that made Harry want to gag.

In an hour Harry wouldn't know what possessed him to do it but he suspected it might have been that terrible smell. He raised his wand and quickly banished both unconscious bodies out of the window right before he jumped out himself. He landed hard on his left leg and he felt it crumple beneath him, he gritted his teeth against a cry of pain, not entirely succeeding.

"Stu-!"

"Experillermus!" Harry grunted, disarming the man in the white mask, his wand hand having never dropped to his side while he had fallen.

"Stupify!" A man in blue robes yelled and the unarmed wizard crumpled silently to the ground. Harry spun as much as he was able on his quite-possibly-broken leg waiting for an attack only to discover that there was no one left standing in a mask. There was faint cheer that went up as the remaining wizards all came to the same conclusion, the Aurors had won. But the sharp relief he felt at seeing the half dozen officers standing in their blue robes was quickly followed by the dawning realization that it had been a close call.

There were four other Aurors that were down and two that were spotting some nasty looking injuries. It looked as though there had been five more Death Eaters on the ground, there was really no reason why it should have taken a dozen of what were supposed to be most elite fighting force in the Ministry to take down so few. Harry anxious worries about something not being right with the situation were overshadowed for the moment with more pressing concerns. He was gasping for air.

"Mr. Potter, are you alright?" A man asked, he was not only wearing the customary blue robes but he had a gold band around the upper sleeve of his robes which Harry guessed meant that he was the ranking person in charge.

Harry nodded coughing harshly to get rid of the smoke that he had inhaled. He struggled to get his breath back, his face flaming red from lack of oxygen. He spat rudely, something black and glutinous seemed to come up from a place Harry didn't want to think about. He took two slow breaths to steady himself before he said. "I'm fine, did you find my cousin? I told him to run out the back."

The Auror nodded, "We got him. We had to stun him though, he was a bit…traumatized by the situation," the man explained with a trace of apology. Harry guessed that meant that Dudley had seen more wizards and had been absolutely terrified, lashing out at the Aurors who were trying to help him. For once Harry could not blame him for his fear. Harry nodded, frowning slightly at the tactics but that wasn't something he could worry about now. "What about my Aunt and Uncle?"

"Both of them sustained some injuries. We're going to have to take all of you to St. Mungo's to get you checked out." The man's eyes strayed to the still unconscious Death Eaters that Harry had thrown from the house. "Your work?"

The man's tone betrayed nothing and Harry was not sure if the man was suggesting that he was actually going to be in trouble for fighting for his life. Or perhaps just curious as to why Harry had bothered to get them out of the house when the fire would have taken care of them. His response came out defensive regardless, "I stunned them when they tried to take me out in my room. I didn't think it was right to let them die though."

The Auror raised his brow at that before saying, "most people wouldn't save the life of the person that was sent to kill them."

"I'm not Voldemort or a Death Eater, I don't think that I should have act like them," Harry said harsher than he intended towards the Auror. The man's lips were pursed in thought but he said nothing, his eyes widening slightly at the name of Voldemort. Another Auror ran up to him. "Sir! We got all three of them. With these two there must have been five in the house and we subdued the six that were surrounding the premises Vaxley and Baker are awake and responsive, Salter is going to St. Mungo's but he should be fine as well sir."

"McThorn?"

The younger officer ducked his head, a grimace on his face as he muttered, "we don't know yet sir. She was hit pretty badly."

The superior nodded his understanding, clapping a hand on his subordinate's shoulder as a means of showing the younger man support. "It wasn't your fault Miller, you're only a year out of Academy, there's a lot for you to learn that training can't teach you. Scene survey is a tricky thing when you need to consider what you _can't_ see as much as what you can. Take this as a lesson to improve on in the future, not an end but a beginning, understand?"

"Yes sir, thank you."

"Er… sir," Harry interrupted, feeling guilty for getting in the middle of what was obviously a tough moment for the other Auror. It sounded as though the man had acted impulsively and gotten another Auror injured, possibly killed. Harry could relate. "I'm sorry to interrupt but you should know that there were seven Death Eaters in the house."

"Seven?" the Auror yelled out in surprise. He blinked in surprise, sizing up Harry once again with the appraising look on his face. The younger Auror was watching Harry with wide eyes and the bark of their commanding officer had drawn the attention of a couple of the other Aurors that were busy modifying the memories of the watching muggles. Harry saw the shift of their gaze from their superior to him and felt that uncomfortable tingle of being watched.

The ranking Auror eyed him for a minute thinking quickly. "We sent your family to be treated at St, Mungo's, from the looks of things you could use a Healer as well but I don't think it's anything serious. Would you mind being seen by the Healer I have in my office and speaking to our Head Auror for a debriefing? You're really the only one that knows exactly what happened here tonight." He paused as though considering his words before plowing on.

"For what it's worth Mr. Potter, not everyone at the Ministry discounted what you said about Vo-Voldemort's return last year. There were a lot of us, particularly in our offices, that took you at your word. I would understand if someone in your position, given what went on, had a distrust of the Ministry but I'm asking you to take a chance on trusting us to help."

Harry was taken aback by the man's words, he had not expected any type of acknowledgment of what the Ministry had done to him last year but he was impressed by the man's candidness. Harry was wary of anyone that he didn't know well, he had had too many experiences with people that were working their own agenda, but he liked the man's sincerity and there was something about the way he had looked after him men that had struck a chord with Harry.

"I actually haven't gotten your name yet," Harry replied with a bit of embarrassment, feeling that it was important to at least know the name of the person that he had decided to trust.

"Right, manners. My mum would be right ashamed of me for that. Senior Auror Harfang Sloane, but please- call me Fang. Everyone does, mostly because I can't stand the name Harfang." The Auror stuck out his hand for Harry to shake which Harry accepted with a grin, thinking of Tonks and her hatred of her traditional wizard name as well. He had to admit, the Wizarding World came up with some strange ones.

"Harry Potter," he said, unnecessarily, "you can call me Harry though." It was nice to be able to invite someone to call him by his given name, due to his age many people took the liberty on themselves and he had been impressed that the Auror had refrained from it.

"I can go to your office with you, but can I bring my trunk? It was the only thing I was able to get out of the house."

"Miller, will you see to it that Mr. Potter's possessions are properly looked after. And when I say that, I mean no one is to go looking through them. Potter is not a suspect in a crime and we have no cause, remind a few people in the office, will you?"

"Yes sir."

"Sorry about that Harry, but I don't think I'm surprising you by saying that your name comes with a certain fascination for people, and people can be indecently curious."

"I appreciate it," Harry said sincerely. He looked out on the street, dawn was at least another hour away, he had a feeling it would be a very long morning.

 **Quick Note: About the 'silencing' charm on the room- I know in fanfiction it's pretty common to cast either Silencing Charms or 'privacy spells' over any area where Harry wants to have a conversation without being overheard, but there's no mention of such a thing in the books. Until he discovers the 'muffilato' spell it seems as though casting a silencing spell on a large area is something that is either not done or else is too advanced for Hogwarts students. I chose to believe the later- it can be done but is difficult and hard to control.**

 **Hope you all enjoyed the first action sequence- now things should be picking...where or where will Harry stay?**


	6. A Long, Terrible Day

**Chapter Six: A Long, Terrible Day**

Harry leaned back in his seat and rubbed his tired eyes, feeling his spine crack as he stretched. It had been several hours since he had sat down on the hard wooden chair in the Auror interrogation room. The sun had just been rising when the Healer had finished patching him up, telling him that he would be a bit sore for a couple of days but the wounds had been easy enough to fix. The leg had not been broken, Harry had been fairly certain of that when he had been speaking to the Aurors back on Privet Drive, but there had been a very bad sprain to his ankle. The slashes had been painful but not particularly dangerous, thanks to magical medicine he wouldn't even have additional scars.

They had asked if he would mind taking only a very low dose of pain-relieving potion so as not to muddle any of his thoughts during the debriefing. Harry had agreed but was currently regretting that hasty sacrifice. The slashes on his side stung and now the muscles were tender, as though he had pulled something the wrong way. He had several bruises that while physically healed, would not feel much better without some solid rest. For the first time he could appreciate all the time that Madame Pomfrey had sequestered him longer than he had felt necessary. Magical healing was faster and more efficient but did require a certain amount of rest from the patient in order for their own magic to respond. As the hours had dragged slowly on, Harry had begun to feel as if he had been running a marathon when he had not even left his chair.

He had been questioned by Fang, by Fang's partner- a woman named Lovett who had found it very hard to believe that Harry had been able to take down four Death Eaters single handedly and had asked him several leading questions in order to trip up his story. And he had just finished being questioned by the Head Auror, a man by the name of Rufus Scrimgeour, whose first impression on Harry was that he resembled a lion, and a second impression that the man had some serious political aspirations. While Harry had liked Fang and (despite her suspicions) Lovett, he was not sure how he felt about Scrimgeour.

He was clever, there was no doubt about that, and certainly a more capable leader than Fudge was as Minister but there was something dark lurking behind those calculating eyes that Harry didn't trust. All three Aurors had been impressed that Harry had told his cousin not to go outside in case there were more Death Eaters hidden under Disillusionment Charms as well as his description of how he had at least tried to distract the other Death Eaters from realizing that their fellows had been taken down by yelling and tossing furniture. Scrimgeour had even mentioned that he had heard through the Minister's Office that Harry had aspirations of becoming an Auror one day and had said, ' _truth be told I had my reservations when I heard it, but based on tonight I would be happy to have you on my team in a few years_.' Fang had gone so far as to mutter under his breath that he thought that Harry might be ready right then and there.

While happy with the compliment, Harry found himself more concerned about how such a rumor had started in the Minister's office in the first place.

They were finally finished, or at least Harry was almost certain that they were, he couldn't imagine having to repeat the story yet again and Harry was waiting to hear about the condition of his relatives. An assistant had come in a couple of hours prior and said that his Uncle was physically healed but had been sedated because the experience had 'agitated' him, Harry didn't bother to correct the idea that his uncle's behavior was due to him being upset, instead of the truth. 'Agitated' was a fairly normal state for Uncle Vernon. Dudley, poor Dudley, was refusing to speak to any of the Healers and was having panic attacks when anyone would even approach him, they were discussing placing him in a special Long-Term ward that they had for muggles that were affected by magical traumas. Harry had convinced them to wait until he spoke to his cousin, hoping that a familiar face would calm the other boy down.

The worst was his Aunt though, she had suffered quite a few Dark Curses meaning that they could not be fully healed and the Cruciatus after-effects had also affected her greatly. At the moment they were uncertain that she would ever recover. The mounting bad news had settled like a weight on his shoulders. He tilted his head back and forth and tried to smooth out a knot in his neck with his fingers. He failed.

There was no clock on the wall, there were no windows and Harry had not had time to put on his watch…correction his watch had been on his nightstand and had been recently been consumed in the fire which meant that he was permanently watch-less. This was rather annoying as he had only recently gotten around to replacing the watch that he had lost during his time in the lake during the Second Task over a year ago.

He had no way of knowing what time it was but it felt like he had been there for days not hours. He was bone tired, both physically and mentally. He could not escape a bone-deep feeling of guilt. He had no great love for the Dursleys, years of neglect and cruelty had made him largely indifferent towards his Aunt and Uncle, but he had never wanted for them to be hurt because they had allowed him to stay in their home. In spite of everything else, Dumbledore had been right, they had taken him in. Offered him some small safety against the dangers of his world and he had repaid them by bringing that danger to their doorstep. The Aurors had praised Harry for saving his relatives from the attack, one going so far as to say that it was the most impressive thing they had ever heard of a civilian doing, but that did not take away from the fact that the Death Eaters would not have come at all if Harry had not been there.

He was alone for the moment and Harry gave into his exhaustion for the moment and crossed both arms over the table in front him, using them as a pillow for his head. No sooner had he given into the impulse than the door opened with a perfunctory tap that Harry guessed was supposed to pass as a knock.

"Percy?" Harry asked in surprise.

"Mr. Potter," Percy answered with his usual stiff dignity. "I've been sent from the Minister's Office to personally see that you have been adequately taken care of after the unfortunate attack on your family home. The Minister wanted to assure you that he is personally going to ensure that the Death Eaters captured tonight are appropriately dealt with."

Harry sat up and frowned at his best friend's older brother. He was annoyed that the older boy would go so far as to pretend that they didn't know each other. He had stayed at the boy's house, shared a tent with him at the Quidditch Cup. The worst part was that there wasn't even anyone else in the room so Harry knew that this act was not for the benefit of others or for Percy's career, this was clear message to Harry that as far as Percy was concerned, they had no connection at all.

Well two could play at that game then. "You can tell the Minister that is concern is noted but not needed."

Percy jaw twitched slightly and his posture, somehow, became even stiffer. "Mr. Potter, I am aware that in the past the relationship you have shared with the Minister has been… strained, however, in light of recent events it has become clear that personal feelings must not get in the way of the larger picture. Minister Fudge as sent me to remind you that we are in fact on the same side."

Harry found himself doubting that. "So, now the Minister is worried about me? That's quite the change from last year, wouldn't you say? Is he even certain that I was even attacked? I could have made the whole thing up. For attention." Harry pointed out coldly.

If Percy felt at all guilty for not believing him and siding with the Ministry over him and his own family, he didn't show it, instead he gave Harry an impatient look. "As I said, _personal_ feelings aside, we all have a responsibility to the larger Wizarding Community to come together and work towards defeating You-Know-Who. You _need_ the Ministry, Harry. A working relationship between you and the Minister would be the best thing for everyone."

Harry blinked at the realization of why Percy had really been sent here. He had been attacked, his relatives tortured, and his home burned to the ground and the Ministry had sent their junior flunky to recruit him to work for them. All in the name of the 'the larger Wizarding Community.'

"Fudge actually wants me to work with him? After everything he did last year? Has he lost bloody his mind?"

Percy seemed to be struggling with himself and Harry was annoyed to see that the other boy seemed to genuinely believe that Harry should be jumping at the chance to work for the Ministry that the older boy worshipped so faithfully. Percy spoke with barely concealed impatience, "I think that you're judging the Minister harshly based on your own experiences. You should really see things from his perspective Harry. After all, he had no real evidence that You-Know-Who had returned at the time and if you were at all objective even you should see that the word of one witness- a biased one at that- is hardly credible."

It had been a very long night and Harry's temper was at a low point. "Hardly credible? I wasn't claiming that it was a dark night and I got scared and assumed that it must be Voldemort!" Percy flinched badly at the name, his whole body twitching slightly. "I was kidnapped, watched as Peter Pettigrew murdered Cedric Diggory right in front of me, had him tie me to a headstone and stab me in the arm. There was a _body_ , Percy. Hell, there was a stab wound! There was plenty of evidence! There would have been more if he hadn't let the only other witness be Kissed before he could even testify!"

"The Minister is in charge of the safety of the entire Wizarding World and is forced to make tough choices at every turn," Percy said. _Spoken like a true politician_ , Harry thought bitterly. Still he took a deep breath and attempted to speak more calmly. He was tired and upset and he had learned from last year that he often said things that he regretted when he was in such a state. He might not care for Percy but he was still his best friend's brother and a member of the family that Harry loved best in the world. He owed them- especially Mrs. Weasley- to try and keep his temper.

"Percy, you're a smart person, you must know that what Fudge did last year was wrong. Fudge not believing that Voldemort was back had nothing to do with me, and everything to do with the fact that Fudge couldn't deal with the idea that something terrible had happened. Fudge didn't believe me because he didn't _want_ to believe me, but no matter how scared he was, you can't deny that what he did was not only wrong, it was dangerous. He gave Voldemort an entire year to get followers and…and make plans!" In spite of his plan to stay cool as he spoke he only got angrier, unable to fully articulate the danger that Fudge had created and fueled. He was shouting at the end.

"And you can't deny that if there was one person who stood to benefit from a mysterious resurrection of You-Know-Who, it was you!" Percy shouted back.

Harry reared back as though he had been slapped, he didn't even know if he was angry or just stunned at such an accusation.

" _Benefit_? How in the bloody hell do _I_ benefit from Voldemort coming back into my life?" he asked incredulously.

"The only reason that you're famous at all is because you somehow managed to defeat him as an infant. But let's be honest Harry, shall we? I'm not some stranger on the street, I know you, and you're not nearly as special as people make you out to be. You never made the top grades, you weren't even made a prefect!"

Harry gave a loud mocking laugh at this. He was really and truly angry now. Angrier than he had been when Percy had sent that letter to Ron telling him to 'sever all ties' with him, angrier even than he had been during those bloody awful detentions with the toad- this was how he had felt during that first disastrous Defense Class when Umbridge had called Cedric's murder an accident. "Oh of course Percy, nothing in life says you're something special like being made a fucking prefect! You are so bloody pathetic Percy, you graduated over two years ago, no cares anymore if you were a prefect or Head Boy. And if you really want to know, we didn't care that much at the time."

Percy sneered at him, his face twisting away from the friendly, open expression that Harry associated with the Weasleys and into something darker. "I wouldn't expect you to have to worry about your future. After all, you're the great Harry-Fucking-Potter. Boy-Who-Didn't-Bloody-Die! You can get any job you want as soon as you walk in the door, but the rest of us actually have to work for the things that we want. Some of us don't have huge Trust Funds to fall back on. I worked hard for everything that I've gotten, and I have risen faster in the Ministry than anyone in the past 40 years!" Harry had never heard Percy swear before but the shock of his word choices was overshadowed by his sheer disbelief at what he was being accused of, even after all this time.

"And I suppose that's how I'm supposed to benefit from Voldemort coming back, is it? I pretend he comes back and then once again take him out single handedly and I become even more famous?"

"The luster was wearing off a bit, wasn't it?" Percy asked him scathingly. Harry was shaking with anger but before he could respond Percy had plowed on, and it occurred to Harry that Percy was finally spilling things that he had wanted to say for a very long time. Longer than the past year, in fact. "You never cared about anything that doesn't put you front and center! Being a prefect is about something bigger than just looking out for yourself, but that's not your style is it? When you and Ron were the only ones that knew where the Chamber of Secrets was, did you bother telling anyone? No of course not! Twelve-Year-Old-Wonder-Boy was there to save the day. My parents were so grateful to you but what if you had failed Harry? What if Ginny had died and the only thing that you did for my family was bring Ron along to join her? Never thought of that, did you?"

"And where were you Percy?" Harry asked, his voice had turned quiet, glaring at the older boy. "You had almost the same information that we did, aside from hearing Parseltongue. You could have looked for it the same we did. But then again, you were the one that knew Ginny, didn't you? You were the one that ignored her. You were the great prefect! But you were just waiting for someone to come and fix all your problems for you, weren't you? You see, that's the real difference between you and me Percy. You want to talk about doing something bigger than yourself? While I was being bitten by a basilisk saving your family, you were off reading "Prefects that Have Gotten Power" or whatever the ruddy name of that book was."

Percy flinched, shocked that Harry knew that he had read the book, or perhaps just shocked that he would bring it up now. Harry was almost surprised himself. He had never before thrown the things that he had done in someone's face like that. He had never wanted the credit or fame from it, he had never expected praise. But the idea of Percy Weasley- who had thrown his own loving family aside for his career- lecturing him on doing the right thing had driven him into a rage.

"Your mother was a mess when you left Percy. Do you have any idea how lucky you are to have a mother that loves you as much as yours does? You want to talk about benefitting from Voldemort's return? You think that life is all wonderful because I'm the…bloody Boy-Who-Lived? My parents were _murdered_ Percy. They're gone. I will never get to talk to them. They will never track me down and try and get me to come back to them. Do have any idea what I would give to have a family like yours?"

"Oh of that I have no doubt Potter," Percy spat viciously. "I suppose you just loved it when they chose believing you over me."

"It wasn't about you!"

"It never is, is it? Boring, rule-abiding Percy, who's too worried about his career to have fun. Who studies too hard to waste time playing stupid childish games! Who cares about the rules too much to tell interesting stories! I have worked harder than anyone in my family and no even noticed, but you blunder around and get lucky enough to not get them all killed and somehow you're their hero! They might all have a blind spot around you Potter, but I see you for what you really are. You're a hanger-on. You don't have your own family so you use mine. And that would have been fine but you don't just show up unannounced after being too rude to even respond to a letter like after Ron's First Year but year after year you put my family in danger. _My_ family Potter. Everyone else might feel sorry about the fact that you don't have your own but quite honestly… with the way you carry on, I can't say I'm surprised that they were in danger in the first place because of you. The people around you end up hurt or dead. If I wasn't sure about that fact before, I think finding out the truth about what happened to Sirius Black was enough to convince me, what about you?"

Harry's jaw dropped open in surprise. He was so taken aback by Percy's claim that he was too stunned to be angry. Harry had had more than his fair share of experience when it came to bullies and harsh words. He had heard them from his relatives, from Snape, from the Slytherins- but he could not remember anyone saying anything so blatantly cruel to him.

He was breathing was quick and shallow and it felt as if his chest was burning. His hands were trembling but there were no words that he could say. He was trapped between anger and guilt. And the horrible, gut-wrenching feeling that as horrible as it was that Percy had said the words…there was too much truth in the statement to deny. His parents were gone because of a prophecy about him. Sirius was dead because of his own foolishness. Cedric had only had the misfortune of standing beside him.

Percy was worried about his family- perhaps he had a point. Ron _always_ stood beside him. How long before Ron paid the ultimate price simply for being his friend?

For his part even Percy looked taken aback that he had gone so far. His face was pale and he too was breathing heavily. There was a flicker of emotion on his face for a moment Harry had the mad idea that he was actually going to apologize.

The seconds stretched on and the silence became oppressive. Until finally Harry returned to the seat that he had abandoned. When he finally spoke his voice was surprisingly calm. He wasn't sure where the words came from but he suspected that most of them came from the dream he had weeks before. "Ron is my best friend and the last thing that I want is for him to be hurt, especially because of me. But in case you haven't realized it yet Percy, we are at war. People are going to die. So it's going to come time where you have to pick a side. And Percy… take it from me, the only thing worse than losing someone you care about is knowing that you didn't spend enough time with them. And the worst part is…I'm pretty sure that there's never enough time."

Percy was so white that even his freckles were pale. He cleared his throat and in the next instant he had resumed his normal stiff tone, "well…as I said, I was sent in here on official business. I was told to take a statement from you as to the identities of the Death Eaters but I rather think it would be best if I simply got that information from the Aurors. There will someone coming in here in a few minutes to take you back to St. Mungos to see about your muggle relations."

Harry gave a brief, business like nod and said nothing else.

Percy made a swift exit and Harry was back to being alone, this time not only contending with the guilt of putting the Dursleys in harm's way but potentially doing the same with Ron and Hermione. Was Percy right? Was he being selfish in continuing to be their friend, especially in light of the prophesy? He had not told anyone of his fate and was debating if he ever should. He had never kept anything like this from his two best friends before but if he told them, was it because they deserved to know? Or was it simply to make himself feel better by having someone else to share the burden with?

The _Prophet_ had made a swift one-eighty and was now full of nothing but praise for him, toting him as the 'Chosen One', the only one who could save them from the evil of 'The Dark Lord'. The fact that this information was actually accurate did not make reading about it any less annoying.

"Mr. Potter?"

Harry glanced up and saw a tall woman with her blond hair tied up in a bizarrely high pony-tail, the effect was all the stranger for it appeared incongruous for such a childish hairstyle to be on a woman that was easily in her fifties. She was wearing bright green robes, almost absurdly so and was smiling at him in rather creepy way. Harry was so surprised by her appearance that he stared at her rather blankly for a moment or two, this in no way seemed to off-put her, if anything she seemed to quite his enjoy his discomposure as she smiled widely at him. "Hello! I'm Florence Stavley, I'm with Wizarding Child Protective Services here, we've heard about what occurred at your home with your muggle relatives and I wanted to make sure that you've been properly seen too. Were you injured in the attack at all?"

Harry blinked, taken aback by the appearance of someone from Child Services, which he had never heard existed before in the Wizarding World. He wasn't entirely sure why he was so surprised given that he knew of their existence in the muggle world, but given that in all of his dealings with the Ministry in the past such a place had never been mentioned, it seemed strange for them to make an appearance now. "Er…no, well I mean I was but I already saw a Healer and I'm fine now. Thanks."

"It must have been terrifying. Death Eaters attacking like that. Lucky the Aurors were able to quickly respond. The important thing to keep reminding yourself now is that you're safe," Stavely said in sympathy, her large brown eyes bright with tears as though she had been personally affected by the attack. Oddly rather than be touched by her empathy for him, Harry felt as though her concern was a bit indecent. As though she was trying overly hard to understand a situation that she inherently did not.

"Er…right. Well Fang, er the Auror I spoke to that is, he said that I could see my cousin Dudley. Do you know when I can get out of here?"

Stavely pursed her lips together, seemingly put off by Harry's reluctance to immediately confide that he had been absolutely terrified and was so happy that he finally had someone that could help him. Personally he felt that she would have been a lot more help a few hours earlier when he had been fighting a house full of Death Eaters on his own. The fact that she seemed to think she could help now seemed strangely insulting to him.

"Well your cousin, from what I understand, is very upset right now, which is completely understandable. When a person- especially children and teenagers- experience something traumatic they need time to process it. To learn to deal with it. That's actually why I'm here Harry, to see if you needed to talk to anyone about what happened last night."

Harry stiffened, wondering if Percy had said something after their argument to make the Ministry think that he was cracking up or something. "Er…well I spoke to the Aurors about everything."

"I meant talk about your _feelings_. You must have been scared. It must have seemed like an impossible situation."

"Actually… I don't know if you've ever been attacked by Death Eaters but you don't really have time to panic. Not then anyway. I was more worried about getting my relatives out before they could be killed. Ms. Stavely…"

"You can call me Florence if you feel more comfortable," she said quickly, her smile condescending.

"I appreciate you coming to see me, but is there a reason why Child Services is here when I was told that I would be able to see my relatives?" he finally asked baldly.

Stavely blinked in surprise, clearly unprepared for Harry to rebuke her. Harry found that he cared little about how rude he was being at the moment. The truth was it had been a long night and the day wasn't turning out much better, the last thing he needed was a Ministry lackey trying to find another way of getting him to work for Fudge or talk about things he only wanted to talk about with Ron or Hermione. "I'm here because your primary guardians are both in hospital and as such Ministry protocol is to ensure that as a minor you are properly supervised, especially after a traumatic event. I can see given your composure that the Healer that you saw issued you a Calming Draught, which is perfectly understandable but…" and here she seemed to flip through some parchment, "I don't see anything written about it. They really should have informed…"

Harry felt his annoyance rise but he decided to take the smarter route this time. "Mrs. Stavely, they didn't give me a Calming Draught, they didn't want to give me too many potions before I made a statement to the Aurors, they were worried it would affect my memories. But since you just admitted that I'm composed, I really think that I should see my cousin. Don't you think he needs to see someone familiar when he's… so obviously traumatized?"

Stavely's wide smile faltered and her lips pursed a moment but she regained her bounce quickly. "Of course you must be worried. I'll escort you myself. After all, we will need to speak to your guardians."

Harry nodded, but was watching her warily. He did not like the fact that she had shown up so quickly after Percy and he had rebuked the Minister's 'offer' to work together. Not for the first time that summer Harry wished that he had simply insisted on pushing forward with Sirius' request to have himself emancipated in the will. He had not pursued it, knowing that it would have been a long shot anyway and knowing that he had only had a little more than 13 months under Dursley reign left. Naturally, he was now stuck- a helpless minor- when the Ministry felt that they needed him.

Harry allowed himself to follow Stavely to St. Mungos, where she spoke to one of the Medi-witches about seeing his muggle cousin. There was a harsh sounding whispers and Stavely appeared upset but the nurse was adamant. "No, he wants to see Harry Potter alone, poor dear is absolutely terrified. Muggles just can't handle our world that well I'm afraid. He's been asking for his cousin and he needs to go in there alone."

Stavely eventually surrendered, clearly unhappy that she was not able to control the situation and Harry suppressed the urge to grin. There was something about her that he intensely disliked and didn't trust. Smiling at her, he allowed the nurse to escort him alone down a corridor and into a room that was covered in muted colors and soft chairs. Dudley was sitting on a padded chair rocking slightly. His eyes were blank and vacant, his skin grey. Harry had opened the door softly but the other boy had started at the noise and started to mutter, 'no, no magic. No more bad magic.' Harry swallowed uncomfortably.

"Dud? It's alright, it's just me. It's Harry," he announced, hands raised in front him, not moving forward. He had heard that Dudley was in a bad way but he had not expected something like this. Suddenly he had a flash memory of Neville's parents, his mum shuffling over to hand him bits of paper. Could that happen to a person that had never been tortured but had been so scarred that they could never face reality again?

Dudley whimpered and Harry continued, "It's just Harry…I left my wand outside." This was not true, Harry would sooner willingly spend time with Snape and Malfoy than willingly surrender his wand but Dudley did not need to know that. Evidently this was the right thing to say because Dudley suddenly looked up, his eyes full of child-like hope. "No magic?"

"No magic Dud. Promise."

Dudley nodded but he still looked nervously towards the door.

"No one's gonna bother us, either. It's just you and me for now."

Dudley said nothing again but his shoulders seemed to deflate slightly and there seemed to be a release of tension in them. "Can I come closer to you? Sit down maybe?" Harry asked uncertainly, trying not to startle Dudley too fast.

"You can sit."

Harry walked slowly, unsure what he was supposed to do now. He had never dealt with anything like this before. "Er…where's Uncle Vernon?"

Dudley let out a terrified squeak and Harry winced at his choice of question. Dudley's eyes traveled to a further corner of the room that Harry, so focused on his distressed cousin, had not noticed at first. Vernon Dursley was lying still and corpse-like on the bed, his enormous chest rising and falling the only indication that he was in fact alive. "D-da-dad was really mad. He hates freak- er…" Dudley shot a horrified glance at the door.

"It's alright Dud," Harry said softly, feeling that he should reassure his cousin as suddenly things fell into place for him. "I know how Uncle Vernon feels about freakiness and my 'abnormality.' Did he make anyone upset?"

"He was really loud," Dudley whispered. "I wanted it to be quiet and he was really loud and then… and he was yelling about freaks…and-and you and…they just," Dudley looked at him helplessly and after a minute it clinked with Harry as to what a wizard would have done with a ranting and raving Vernon Dursley. "So they… put him to sleep?" Harry asked, hoping that he could convince Dudley that's what a stunning spell did a person. It wasn't that far off, he wouldn't be hurt by a single spell after all- but he doubted Dudley needed to hear that they had rendered him unconscious.

His cousin, however, had already taken in the truth of the situation. "They knocked him out. I thought he was dead but he's breathing." Even as he said this Dudley glanced over once again as though to reassure himself that this was still the case.

"He'll be alright Dud. Honestly. This is a hospital, did anyone explain that to you?"

The large boy looked oddly childlike as he nodded, "they said we were at hospital but I wasn't sure… and they said that I couldn't see you because you were busy with…with Auras."

"Aurors," Harry corrected gently. "It's our police officers. I was just telling them everything that happened so that they could catch anyone else that was involved. Dud… I know that what happened tonight was scary and I'm really… _really_ sorry for that, but I promise you, you're alright now."

"There were a lot of them, what if there are more," Dudley pouted. Harry ran a hand through his hair wondering how he had gotten himself in this situation. He found it rather ironic that he was now faced with the same dilemma the Order had been in with him last year- how much to tell his cousin? Of course, Harry thought wry, he had never freaked out the way Dudley was doing now.

"Dud…I told you about the- bloke- that killed my parents right? And how's he's…. he's powerful Dud. But so are other wizards," he rushed to say. "There are places where you can be safe."

"Weren't we supposed to be safe before?"

"That's certainly the impression we were given when we took in that god-forsaken brat," a grumbled voice behind Harry answered. Harry looked over at his uncle uneasily, silently urging him to for once keep things under control. The last thing Dudley needed was Vernon's volatile temper. However, all reason must have abandoned his uncle earlier if had thrown such a rant in front of witches and wizards- who he was generally too terrified to even speak in front of. The sight of a wand was usually enough to hush his uncle into disgruntled silence but the events of the night must have taken their own toll on the man.

"I don't know how the Dea… how they got to the house tonight. It was supposed to be safe," Harry said as calmly as possible.

"Safe? Boy have you seen your aunt? She's… and Dudley… my bloody house!"

Harry glanced nervously at Dudley who had resumed his rocking a bit and Harry stood and once again placed both hands in front of himself in a soothing gesture, this time directed at his uncle. "Uncle Vernon, we can work it out. The Or…my people will help you. I know they will."

Vernon forcibly pushed Harry up against the wall and pinned him with one of his large beefy hands against his chest. Harry, for the first time in many years, did not attempt to fight back. He needed to make sure that the situation didn't escalate and his mind was working furiously to think of a way to calm his uncle down before he lost all control.

"We take you in off the fucking street and give you a place to stay despite the fact that for 15 bloody years you have made our lives miserable boy. 15 years of freakishness…and- and UNNATRALNESS. I work damn hard! I have a job that I go to, pay my taxes, provide for my wife and son and never asked for a bleeding handout like your lazy no good lot. Sitting around waving… _magic wands_. And now you send out the worst of the freaks to have us all murdered in our beds! We all could have been killed and it would have been all your fault!"

The words hit Harry worse than a blow because in spite of their horribleness, in spite of the fact that all he had ever received from the Dursleys were scraps, and in spite of the spittle that was flying out his uncle's mouth as he spoke, the words were not untrue.

"Harry saved us," Dudley said quietly. When Vernon glared at him with wounded eyes Dudley spoke again, this time with a little more conviction. "He did Dad. Those…the magic people were gonna kill us all but Harry stopped them." His cousin was looking at him with something like awe. Harry wondered if the full irony of the situation had hit him yet. Dudley was not the deepest thinker but Harry suspected that even he had not been able to ignore the fact once upon a time it had been Dudley that had beat him up and now he was discovering that all along he had never been as dangerous as the prey he had been after.

There was an uncomfortable throat clearing and a nurse was taking in the scene with wide, surprised eyes. "Is…is everything alright in here? We- I… er just wanted to make sure that you all felt….um….you felt better," she explained, still looking back and forth between Harry and Vernon as though uncertain if she should intervene. Vernon dropped Harry as if he had been scalded, his prior fear of wizards returning as he shrunk from the sight of the wand.

"Everything is fine now, thanks ma'am," Harry told her quietly, hoping to diffuse the situation. The last thing that he wanted at the moment was involvement of outside parties. He had not had a chance to think about the consequences of the day's attack but it was finally making its way into his tired, overwrought mind that not only was the house at Privet Drive gone but so was the protection that they supposedly had. With his aunt in the hospital, what did that mean for him? Apparently the 'protection' his mother's blood had given him had not been enough… or had it in fact helped him more than he realized? He had survived after all… 

The only thing he was sure of at the moment was that he didn't want the Ministry making any major decisions about him.

The nurse had withdrawn after a few more awkward questions and Harry's calm answers and Harry spent the next few hours reassuring Dudley. He eventually convinced his cousin to allow a Healer to look at him, telling him to keep his eyes closed and talking to him the whole time the examination was happening.

His cousin had not been physically hurt in the attack but it was clear that he was more than just upset about the attack. There was something… broken in Dudley that Harry wasn't entirely sure that he understood. Or perhaps he didn't want to fully understand. After he had learned what had happened to Neville's parents, losing his mind had been Harry's greatest fear aside from losing the people that he cared about. He didn't want to die but was not afraid of it either. He supposed he regarded death in the terms that Dumbledore had put it, 'the next great adventure'- one he didn't want to take for a long time but not something to fear or go to the lengths Voldemort had apparently gone to in order to avoid it. Losing his identity though- losing his memories, his sense of self… he couldn't picture living that way. It was the same horrified feeling that he had about the Dementor's Kiss- a punishment far worse than death in his mind.

Harry spent the rest of the day speaking quietly with Dudley, listening to him when he wanted to talk, speaking about inane things when his cousin started to shut down. He remembered how Ron and Hermione had done that for him after the Triwizard Tournament. He had never appreciated their friendship more than when they had simply let him sit with them but not expected him to talk, or laugh or do anything except quietly process everything that had happened. Sitting there with Dudley he realized how hard it was not to push, not to ask questions and even not to try and compare it to his own experiences because in spite of what Harry had seen he knew that it was different for Dudley. At least he could do magic. He might be weaker or more inexperienced than the Death Eaters but he had the ability to fight back and that meant everything to him- Dudley was absolutely powerless and he knew that above everything else that must have been nearly impossible for him to handle. He felt newfound respect for his friends and the way they had helped him over the years.

There was a knock on the door and Harry looked up to see that Dumbledore had arrived. Harry released a breath of tension he had scarcely realized that he had been holding all this time. Finally…someone that could help him. That could tell him what he was expected to do for the rest of the summer without Harry having to wonder if he was going to be attacked again wherever the Ministry tried to send him. Harry felt a small amount of responsibility and worry lift from his shoulders and was grateful for the reprieve.

"Professor! Er…thanks for coming sir," Harry added, realizing after a moment that in spite of his expectation that the Headmaster would help him, he was not actually responsible for his students' summer living arrangements.

"Of course Harry, I am only sorry that we were forced to meet under such unfortunate circumstances. Mr. Dursley," Dumbledore said turning to address the man now struggling to pull himself up from the cot bed that he had been lying on lethargically ever since he had abandoned his argument with Harry. While he and his cousin had talked and tried to work through everything that had happened, Vernon had remained stubbornly silent. Harry was quite glad with this decision- he preferred any scenario that allowed the two of them as little interaction as possible. "I wanted to extend to you my most sincere apologies. My intention were to keep both your nephew and your family safe but I was obviously unsuccessful. Let me assure you that you will be fully compensated for the loss of your material possessions and while I know that is no comfort to the emotional losses you have suffered you also have my full assurances that we will insure that you are protected in the future."

"Assurances?" Uncle Vernon rasped, his normally darkly shaded face pale and ghostly. "Everything that I have worked for all these years is gone. My wife… my _son_ ," Vernon gestured rather helplessly at Dudley who had resumed his trembling at the appearance of not only a wizard but someone so blatantly magical as Dumbledore. Harry had never before believed that he would capable of feeling any kind of warmth or kindness for his uncle. Years of harsh cruelty, casual indifference, and mutual and consistent animosity between them had rendered all familial attachment to the man void in Harry's mind but somehow in that moment he couldn't help but feel a bit of pity. Perhaps pity was separate from actual affection but pity it most certainly was; and the fact that Harry felt it for such a man left him feeling distinctly uneasy.

"Mr. Dursley I know that last night must have been terrifying for you and your family- your nephew included," Dumbledore added with no little subtlety. Harry started as he realized for the first time that in all of his uncle's concerns, he had not been listed among them. Of course he had never expected to have been and so it had gone unnoticed but he felt himself blush slightly as he realized that Dumbledore had noted the slight and felt it worth commenting on. "But Petunia is being given the very best care that is available and once again I can promise you that both you and your son will be comfortably accommodated."

"I will not have that…that _boy_ stay with us! Petunia always insisted that he stay. She was… she felt forced. Debt to her sister and all that but I- no. He goes. Do you hear me?"

Dumbledore was looking down on Vernon with ill-concealed distaste. He, like Harry, seemed very much aware that 'boy' had merely been the nicest term that the man could come up with at moment and had only used because he was faced off against a powerful wizard.

"I have made other arrangements for Harry," Dumbledore answered coldly. "Harry if you wouldn't mind speaking with me out in the corridor?"

"Er…can I just have a minute, sir?" Harry asked, surprising himself with the request but he couldn't leave Dudley like this. Abrupt and aloof.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled at him and he gave him the shadow a wink. "Of course my dear boy, take as much time as you require. I will just wait right outside."

Harry nodded, waiting for the door to close before he spoke to Dudley. "Dud? Listen, did you hear everything that Professor Dumbledore just said? You're going to be alright. I'm going to go and stay with some of my people and without me, there will be no reason for anyone to come after you. You'll be safe."

"But…but if someone does come there won't be anyone that can…that can fight back?" Dudley whimpered slightly.

"Dud- listen I promise you that Dumbledore is not going to leave you guys all alone. Last time… last time was an accident but they'll be better prepared now."

Dudley gave him an uncertain nod, enough to let Harry know that he understood what was being said but was by no means convinced. Harry sighed, wondering what else he was supposed to do at this point. Was it his responsibility to make sure that Dudley was not only physically safe from danger but felt safe as well? If it was, he didn't know how he would be able to accomplish that. For the moment he settled for giving his cousin an awkward pat on the back, a gesture of support in only the most technical of terms. He rose to his feet but thought of one last thing to say, "I probably won't see again this summer but if you want I can write to you. Only if you want though."

"With the owls?" Dudley asked warily.

Harry nodded "only Hedwig though, and you know her. Is that alright?"

Dudley bit his lip before saying quietly, "alright."

Harry nodded and walked out into the hall, closing the door with a weary sigh. In spite of the better relationship with his cousin, Harry could not remember a time when he had been more grateful for an escape from the Dursleys. He ran a hand down his tired, drawn face, forcing some energy into himself. The corridor was equally without windows but Harry felt that it must have been nightfall- the day had seemed interminable to him. He felt a stab of hunger and realized he had not eaten anything all day. At the Ministry he had spoken to many different people, all at different times and all with a very specific tasks in mind. No one had seemed particularly concerned about feeding him. And Dudley had been terrified of eating anything offered off of a floating tray. His compulsive shaking and near mental collapse had dried up Harry's appetite at the time. Now however…

"Harry, how are you doing?" Dumbledore asked sympathetically, his blue eyes examining Harry so closely he had the familiar feeling of being x-rayed by the man. He was grateful that the Ministry had been able to provide him with some new robes while they had been attending his injuries and it had become more than clear that his night clothes had been scorched and ripped far beyond repair. Still after everything that he had been through in the past 20 odd hours, he must look rather awful.

"The Order member that was watching me, are they dead?" Harry asked, needing to know before he lost the nerve to ask.

If Dumbledore was surprised by the abruptness of the question, he did not let on. Instead he was his normal calm, unshakeable self. The same man that had stayed silent while Harry had howled and bellowed with grief, tearing apart his office, only four weeks previously. His eyes, however, were immeasurably sad as he nodded, "Hestia Jones was in charge of guarding you last night. Unfortunately it appears as though she was either overwhelmed by her opponents or else caught unaware. She was killed quickly, when I inspected her wand she had not had time to cast any defensive spells, and so we are at least given the small consolation that she did not suffer."

Harry tried not to snort with derision at the idea that there was any kind of consolation that came with someone being murdered but it occurred to him that perhaps he was being rather naïve. He had after all witnessed what the Death Eaters were capable of when they wished a person to truly suffer. Dumbledore was looking at Harry closely and when he spoke again, Harry was surprised by the directness with which the Headmaster was addressing his concerns.

"Harry, I very much hope that you realize that this was not at all your fault. I know that you must feel some responsibility as Hestia was guarding you at the time but where she was is not as important as what she was setting out to accomplish. Hestia was a brave woman with strong ideals of right and wrong. She willingly and, might I add, knowingly, joined the Order to help combat a threat to our very world. When I spoke to you at the end of the year about the prophesy it was not merely to let you know what role you will play in the war but to place into context the role that others play. I know that it feels terribly unfair to you, but Hestia was guarding you not merely out of compassion or duty but because someday you will be invaluable in his war."

A swell of injustice filled Harry, "but you just said it professor, 'someday.' There's nothing I can do and Voldemort isn't going to stop until he… he kills everyone that I care about."

"The only thing we can ask of others is to give the very best of themselves, something that you have never disappointed me in Harry. It is not your fault that you unprepared for this fight, nor should you allow yourself to be pushed into a battle prematurely because of feelings of guilt. I wish I could give you more comfort but the truth is that Voldemort will kill anyone that opposes him and it only gives disservice to Hestia's memory not to acknowledge that she was willing to make the ultimate sacrifice to keep those she cares most about safe. I don't know if this will help you or not, but you should remember that Hestia did not give her life for you alone Harry, but for her family, her friends and her community."

Harry nodded, understanding the point that the Headmaster was making but unsure how he truly felt about it. Over the past month he had been working carefully through his feelings of Sirius' death but he had not reached a point where he had readied himself for more causalities. Combined with his feelings of guilt and sadness there was now also a feeling that he had been incredibly stupid. No matter how many visions he saw or how real the threat of Voldemort was to him, he had made no move to prepare himself for losing the people around him. Was there a way to prepare for such a thing? Harry didn't know and had no desire to ask.

Dumbledore cleared his throat before speaking, his tone uncharacteristically formal when speaking with Harry. "Forgive me if I sound brusque during a time of mourning but there are a few practical concerns that must be addressed. The apology that I gave to your uncle was meant even more for you Harry. I have promised you that you would be safe at your relations house in spite of the rather… inhospitable conditions that they provide and the fact that their home was attacked was an appalling oversight of mine."

Harry frowned, "about that professor. I… I know this might sound strange but… I don't think that Voldemort sent… well the Death Eaters seemed a bit inexperienced to me."

Dumbledore gave him a look of interest, "indeed Harry. I had not wanted to insult your most impressive performance in defending both yourself and your relatives but you are correct in saying that the men that you fought were not Voldemort's Inner Circle. Rather, judging from their ages and the fact that when the Aurors arrested the ones that made it out of the house, the Dark Marks that they possessed were still healing, I am certain that these were fresh recruits. It is my belief that is the reason they were able to come through the wards. To the best of my knowledge no one present in the house last night had ever committed the act of murder."

Harry blinked in surprise. "The wards could tell something like that?"

Dumbledore nodded, "The taking of another person's life- be they wizard or muggle- is an irreparable event. A person's very soul is torn from such an act and such a person would not have been able to get through the wards at your Aunt's house which are built around a sacrifice made of nothing but purest of intentions."

Harry frowned, "sir…did you know that it was only people that have killed in the past that couldn't get through?" The question was perhaps impertinent, and most certainly accusatory but Harry couldn't help but feel rather betrayed by his faith in the Headmaster. Dumbledore had always seemed to possess the answers when it truly mattered and to see the man make such an obvious error shook him more than perhaps was fair to the man.

Dumbledore shook his head, "no Harry I did not. In fact I was almost certain that the wards built around your mother's sacrifice would protect you against _anyone_ that intended you harm, regardless of previous actions, but it appears… I was mistaken. The wards were not as powerful as I once believed, though I would perhaps hazard the guess that Voldemort himself felt that he was risking much by launching the attack in the manner that he did. I cannot see him being by any means certain that by using newly initiated members of his followers that they would be successful. Though again, it may be I that is once again in error for if I am being honest, I would not have guessed that Tom would have been clever enough to use less experienced people to do what his most powerful could not."

"You don't think that Voldemort is clever?" Harry asked in surprise.

Dumbledore smiled slightly at Harry's blatant shock at the criticism. "While Tom was always an accomplished student and Voldemort a rather masterful manipulator and wizard- his weakness has always been the emphasis that he places on pure power. Specifically his own power. His arrogance led him to attack you when he did not know the full prophesy, and his belief in strength over courage and determination has led him to consistent failure against you Harry."

Harry gave his headmaster a rather rueful smile, remembering his earlier thoughts about Voldemort continuing to underestimate him, and how much it had helped him.

Dumbledore glanced down at his gold pocketwatch and looked unusually ruffled. "I very much apologize for having to cut our conversation short Harry but we do have more important matters to attend to, I mean of course where you will be staying the remainder of the summer."

"Can I stay at the Burrow with the Weasleys?" Harry asked hopefully. He had absolutely no desire to return to Grimmauld Place, the idea of being in the place that had made the last few months of his godfather's life so miserable was unbearable to him.

"Unfortunately that will not be possible Harry. While Molly would love to have you stay with her, we had more trouble than we anticipated establishing suitable wards. Also, I suppose in the interest of keeping with my new assurances of candidness with you, I should be frank in saying that such an arrangement might cause problems that Arthur does not need with the Ministry at the moment."

Harry blinked in surprise. "What do you mean? I thought that the Ministry was finally admitting that Voldemort was back? The _Prophet's_ been talking about nothing else for weeks. I thought they had finally got it out of their heads that I'm a raving lunatic."

Dumbledore chuckled slightly at the description. "Indeed they have Harry but now that the Ministry has discovered their dreadful mistake in distancing themselves from you, they are more than eager to…make up for lost time should we say?"

Harry stifled a groan of irritation. "Right. I should have known. Percy and some woman who said that she was the Wizarding Child Protection Office or something both tried to talk to me earlier."

"Ah, I had wondered if Marcus Biglo of the WCPS had been able to send someone over fast enough. He and I had a rather… I suppose the polite term would be _impassioned_ discussion about who had the correct authority to arrange your living situation for the remainder of the summer."

Harry nodded, "He must have sent someone anyway. It was someone named Florence Stavely."

"Ah yes, I remember Florence well from when she was a student. Her dormmates once tried to vote her out of her own room because they found her to be rather…I suppose the polite term would be overbearing. She's more well-meaning than she often appears, or at least it's always been my impression that she believes herself to be well intentioned. However, I suppose the important thing is that I was able to convince Marcus that I had the perfect location for you. Heavily warded, with more than adequate protection from any Death Eaters. Although between you and me, that is because you will be staying with an Order member, not an Auror as I perhaps led Marcus to infer," Dumbledore admitted slyly.

"Brilliant," Harry said, happy to have side stepped the Ministry's interference for the time being. "Which Order member is then?" he asked. Without being allowed to stay with the Weasleys and with Sirius gone, Harry had the uncomfortable realization that there was literally no one left in the world for him to turn to. No one that he could be certain would willingly open their doors. He had no family, no close friends other than Ron and Hermione. Hermione's parents were muggles and even if their house could be protected- which it couldn't be quickly enough- he had only met them briefly. He had a vague idea that Neville's grandmother would allow him to stay if it came down it but only out of sheer emergency. Remus Lupin had escorted him to Sirius' will reading but although the former professor had always been civil with Harry, even friendly, Lupin had never taken the time to write to him or maintain any kind contact beyond what was thrust upon by school or Order business. Even when he had been a professor, Lupin had always maintained a strange distance, even when accepting Harry's plea to give him extra lessons. There had always been a reluctance to get close, as though the werewolf was scared of what would happen if he were establish too close of bond with the son of his former friend. It had, after all, taken a few months into the school year for Lupin to even mention that he had known James at all. Still Harry supposed he might be the best option available.

For the first time in the five years that Harry had known Albus Dumbledore, he looked strangely furtive, almost guilty as he said, "you'll be staying with Professor Snape, Harry."

For a moment there was a feeling of shock, as though Harry could not possibly have heard what he had thought. Dumbledore would not do this him. Not after losing Sirius. Not after _everything_ the man had done to him.

"No." He said before he could even think to say anything else.

"Harry…"

"Professor! You can't actually expect me to stay with him? After… he's… I can't stay there!"

"Harry please listen to me. I am not doing this on a simple whim, nor am I trying to intentionally antagonize either one of you. It has not escaped my notice that the two of you-"

"Hate each other?"

"Hate is a strong word Harry and one that I hope you think carefully before using."

"Hate is something that Snape thrives on Professor. He hated Sirius, he hated my dad- don't you think it's a bit convenient that the people that he hates tend to turn up dead?" he asked edgily.

The aged lines around the Headmaster's eyes, usually crinkled in warmth and amusement, hardened and the elderly man looked down at Harry sternly. "That is enough Harry. I cannot force you to like _Professor_ Snape but you should at least offer him the respect that he has earned. It was Professor Snape that warned the Order that you had gone to the Ministry, if he had not, neither you nor your friends would have likely survived. I would think that you would be grateful for his help that night."

"If he had told the Order right away they would have made it to the entrance before we even arrived," Harry said sullenly.

"You think that Professor Snape delayed relaying important information on purpose?" Dumbledore's brow rose quizzically, it was clear that even though he was poising the question to Harry, there was no doubt in the older man's mind that his professor had acted in the best manner possible that night. There was also the none-to-subtle implication that Harry, conversely, had not.

"It took us hours to get there professor. We had to walk into the Forbidden Forest, we were attacked by centaurs and then we had to fly all the way to the Ministry. Snape had to make one Floo call. Better yet, he had to send one message- and you already told me that the Order has a way to communicate that loads better than the floo. If he had really done everything that he could have done, Sirius would still be alive. He would have waiting at the visitor's entrance before I even got there because he would have apparated before we had even found the thestrals to help us. So don't tell me that Snape did anything other than what he wanted to do that night. He might as well have killed Sirius himself that night, which if you're honest you'll realize, not actually killing him must be a real disappointment to him."

Harry hadn't felt so angry in weeks. All of the resentment that he had felt in those first few awful days flooded back to him in that moment and the injustice of Dumbledore wanting him to stay with a man that had at best celebrated his godfather's death and at worst practically orchestrated it felt like a base betrayal from one of the only people he had ever truly trusted.

Dumbledore was looking at him with a cross between disappointment and real anger. "You are being unfair Harry. Professor Snape acted the best that he could that night, just as we all did. None of us are perfect Harry and it is hard enough at times to be accountable for our own actions, blaming each other for things beyond our control is rather cruel, don't you think?"

"I'm not blaming him for things beyond his control, I'm blaming him for not trying to contact the Order sooner."

"Severus is in a very delicate position. He is forced to make tough decisions every day. No one plays a more delicate and yet necessary role in the war than he does and I wish that you afforded him the true respect that his sacrifices requires."

"Because he's a spy?" Harry asked dangerously, his eyes narrow.

Dumbledore nodded. "A position that places him in constant danger and yet provides us with our most valuable pieces of information. He is essential to the Order, no other person can do what he does."

"That's because no one else in the Order ever became a Death Eater first! He was on their side Professor! He willingly joined Voldemort! You must know what that means?" harry asked desperately.

"Yes Harry I dare say that I am aware of what that truly means, far more than you yourself can imagine, I might add," Dumbledore answered, his patience thinner than Harry had ever seen it, but Harry didn't care. He couldn't believe that the Headmaster was really so trusting of this man. So blind to who he truly was.

"He's hurt people, and killed them and he did it because he wanted to!"

"He did it because he employed by Lord Voldemort," Dumbledore countered.

"Which he signed up for! Do you honestly think he didn't know what he was doing when he became a Death Eater? Because if you think that than I'm not the one who's refusing to give him the credit he deserves," Harry bit out angrily.

"Severus was young and afraid and made grievous mistakes at a time when he felt that he had no other options. You do not understand the position that he was in that drove him to these decisions but I can assure you that Severus deserves our compassion far more than he needs our condemnation. He receives too much of that from himself," the Headmaster added significantly.

"Why because he had a bad childhood?" Harry scoffed, thinking about those few brief flashes of memory had had seen from his professor during their tumultuous Occlumency lessons. He had remembered feeling a flash of…something when he had seen those terrible memories but now they only made him angrier. Anyone that knew what it felt like to be treated so badly should have been horrified at hurting someone else. Harry's own painful experiences had taught him that. The fact that Snape knew what it felt like to bullied, humiliated and hurt made it all the worse, in Harry's mind, that he would want to inflict such misery on others. "He's not the only person to feel hard done by- that doesn't give anyone the right to hurt other people. You said he was young, but he was old enough to know that what he was doing was wrong."

There was a pause as the older wizard seemed to consider what, or perhaps how much, to say. "You feel that way because you yourself are young and have lived through terrible experiences but you still manage to have a very strong sense of justice. Not everyone is given such perspective. Severus' experiences were in some ways quite similar to yours but he was unable, at the time, to see past his own pain. He took offences made by one muggle and turned them into offences made by all of them. He took a feeling of helplessness and turned into a desire to be powerful so that he would never face such pain again. As I said Harry, you are still young and it must seem to you that people are very black and white but I should tell you from very long and difficult experience that we are not bound by one decision or one mistake. We grow as people and become the sum of all our decisions and experiences," Dumbledore said, his voice calmer now but becoming weary and almost…cautious in the words that spoke.

Dumbledore calm words, always so rational and insightful calmed Harry's temper only slightly. However there was one point that he simply could not overlook. "Professor, can you honestly say that if someone hurt you…or…or hurt your family when you were young that you would actually want to hurt other people? Of course not! You would never think that all muggles were scum or that just because you're a wizard that it gives you the right to...to do whatever you want with them. No decent person would do the things that Snape did. _No decent_ _human being_ would ever consider trying to be powerful by making others weak!"

Dumbledore's face was ancient and lined and for a moment he didn't speak. There was a look that flashed across his eyes that was indefinable but there was well of sadness that Harry recognized all too well. Harry rather thought that he had finally convinced the Headmaster that no decent person would do the things that Snape had once done. As a spy, he was no doubt still doing them. And all with the blessing of the Order and Headmaster.

When Dumbledore finally spoke he did not answer Harry's question but his voice was firm and unmoving, "Severus is in the Order. He has done much for me, for us, and yes Harry- for you as well. As I said before, I cannot force you to like Professor Snape but I do require that you show him respect. He is being more than generous in allowing you to stay with him for the remainder of the summer and deserves to have a houseguest that is at the very least polite," Dumbledore ended sternly.

"You _really_ trust him?" Harry asked feeling hollow. There was the old sense of betrayal when it came to the Headmaster. That the man would never truly consider anything that Harry had to say. Never value his opinion as anything else besides the ramblings of an ignorant schoolboy. Harry was meant to obey, not contribute.

"I have already discussed this at length and will not do so again. You know how I feel."

"And you know how I feel. Funny that's it's your feelings that matter when it comes to where _I_ stay," Harry muttered

Dumbledore looked at him, his eyes softening from a stern, hard glare to something that resembled pity. "This is the best arrangement that I could find for you. I hope that you discover that I did not place you with Severus as any kind of punishment or because I am callous of your feelings, but because his location is the most secure and can provide you with the best environment possible."

Harry gave a stiff nod, no longer trusting himself to speak. _Best environment possible?_ The words made Harry seethe but even through his anger there still seemed to be one last important fact that the needed to be addressed.

"Sir... if Snape is a spy, isn't it more danger than ever that I stay with him? Aren't I just putting us both at risk?"

"Severus' home has very specific protections on them that even Voldemort cannot breach. I'm sure during the course of your stay he will be able to explain things in a more satisfactory manner but suffice it to say, even though Severus will have to excuse himself from time to time to handle his duties, no one will know that you are staying there. I am glad however that you raised this point because I wanted to inform you that Severus does not know all of the details of what occurred last night. In fact he is currently under the impression that your relations' home was the victim of an unfortunate accident and because you cannot return there is no way to maintain the wards. Voldemort does not give his Death Eaters any information on plans that do not directly involve themselves, he uses information to try and discover any and all spies. While Severus is an impressive Occulmens, it is easier at times simply not to know information that he shouldn't know. I encourage you to keep the details of tonight a secret so that Severus does not know anything he not supposed to know. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir," Harry agreed. Any order that included not having to talk to Snape was fine with Harry. Still the entire situation had him on edge. The fact remained that he was trapped between obeying the whims of the Ministry or the whims of Dumbledore- if he didn't know that it would likely take longer than the summer to accomplish anyway Harry would have called up Martin Tisdale then and there and decide to emancipate himself after all.

For a man that was so smart, Dumbledore could be quite blind when it came to people. It occurred to Harry for the first time that Dumbledore was so used to not only getting his way, but maneuvering people exactly as he wished that he didn't understand how careless he could be with them. Still, Harry had enough experience in bad situations to know that he was not going to get out of this. Dumbledore would not be moved and Harry was not going to enter the snake's den kicking and screaming and give Snape the satisfaction of knowing how miserable he was. Dumbledore had once dropped him off on the doorstep of relatives that had hated him, had neglected and abused him and he had survived- he would survive wherever the Headmaster placed him now as well.

 **A/N: Snape's in next chapter, finally. And Harry's in for some more bad news when he finds out that Snape already has another houseguest for the summer- I don't think many (any) of you will be surprised when you find out who it is.**

 **So I have a bit of an explanation as to why Harry has to stay with Snape and not with Remus as I'm sure would make sense to some people. Anyone that doesn't care feel free to skip, it's not important but I thought some might be curious:**

 **First off- no Dumbledore is not on some grand manipulation scheme to make Harry and Snape get along. I feel that Dumbledore accepts that they will never like one another and he doesn't need them to. He needs to win a war and to do that he needs to keep Harry safe and he is callous (at times) of the fact that the most workable solution is not actually always the best solution. Also Snape's location in this story is important and will be make sense later.**

 **As for the Remus option...I'm about to say something I'm pretty sure is deeply unpopular so I apologize in advance, but I don't like Remus. But I think I have valid reasons. One- I don't think there was ever quite a valid explanation as to why Sirius and evidently James and Lily thought that he was the spy. Most assume it was because he was a werewolf and either the group distrusted him or Remus himself pulled away due to being insecure but the fact remains that the suspicion was there. Two- Remus never tries to question Sirius' guilt for 12 years? Not once? Not a great friend in my opinion. (Also the reason why Remus/Sirius slash stories where they have "always" been the love of one another's lives don't make sense to me) Three- Remus never once contacts Harry as a child. Before Hogwarts I suppose it can be chalked up to either being on Dumbledore' insistence or the fact that as a werewolf the Ministry would probably be against him having any contact with a child much less the BWL but what about after Hogwarts? Chances are a lot of the photos that Harry got from Hagrid came from Remus, how about a letter then? Or a visit. Four- When he finally does meet Harry he avoids telling Harry that he knew his father (it slips out by accident) and then doesn't contact him again until the Order asks him to pick him. Five- After watching Harry be tortured by Dementors for weeks while trying to learn the patronus and knowing full well that Harry's worst memory is the murder of his parents, when Harry sneaks out of school Remus accuses him of not caring about his mother's sacrifice which in my opinion is the cruelest thing that is every said to Harry. By anyone. Particularly because it came from someone that he cared about. Six- in the last book he tries to encourage Harry to commit murder by stunning a person that Harry knew to be under the Imperious curse on a broom.**

 **Personally I think a lot of fanfiction over-exaggerates the closeness that Harry has with him. They make it sound like the affection that Sirius and Remus had for Harry was equal but I just can't buy that. Sirius lived in a cave for a year and ate rats to help Harry. Remus never even wrote him a letter, never goes out of his way to see him or offer advice. The only good decision Remus makes is naming Harry godfather to his son- and that was only because Harry was the only person to talk some sense into him before he abandoned his wife and unborn child during a war. So yeah, I'm not a fan of Remus but I appreciate the fact that a lot of people love him. To be clear, I will not bash the character in this story and he will be making a few more appearances- even if I don't like him, Harry does.**

 **Sorry for the very long note, especially since it turned into a rant!**


	7. Three's CompanyOr a Crowd

**Chapter 7: Three's Company…Or a Crowd**

Harry could almost feel the malevolent presence before he saw it. Severus Snape swooped down upon him, looking irritable and cross. Harry felt himself him stiffen unconsciously and he realized that his body was assuming the reaction it had once given to seeing his relatives. Those first two years when he had come back from Hogwarts and had still felt some fear for his uncle, he had always steeled himself for the wrath that he had been about to face. By the end of Third Year, when he had had the threat of Sirius to protect him if necessary, he had no longer felt the need to protect himself quite so much. The fear he had once felt for his uncle had gone, held at bay with the successes he had had at Hogwarts. With the knowledge that he had faced worse and still survived, and in the strength that came with finding real friendships in Ron and Hermione he had grown a confidence that he had only imagined as a child. However, in that moment he felt like he did as a twelve year old disembarking from the train and knowing that he was going to be in for a long painful summer unless he played his cards extremely well.

Snape came to an abrupt halt right in front of them. In spite of the warm summer weather outside, the potion's master was still attired with his traditional black cloak. He looked very much the same as he always did, his clothing as dark as his expression and posture imposing. He gave a brief nod to Dumbledore before turning his dark eyes onto Harry. His face curling into a sneer. "Potter. I will make this extremely clear. This arrangement is nothing more than a favor to the Headmaster, and might I say a large one at that. You will treat my home with respect, you will follow the rules that I give you and you will be polite and respectful at all times, is that clear."

"Yes sir." Harry replied dully. He knew this role. He knew how to be the unwelcome, assumed-to-be-ungrateful houseguest. Dumbledore had ensured years ago that it was a part he could play to perfection and he was not about to forget his training. After all, living with Snape was the magical equivalent of living with his relatives. The revelation of the similarities between the two of them was not a new thought to Harry. Ever since the professor's seemingly inexplicable hatred for him in First Year Harry had felt that he had stumbled upon the one person in the Wizarding World that his uncle might get along with. Both hated him and his parents. Both issued cruel and unfair punishments when they were undeserved. Both had no regard for other people with the exception of whether it could benefit themselves. The unfortunate problem was that Snape was smarter than his uncle- and capable of magic. It was if Harry had been in an amateur league before and had suddenly gotten called up to the pros… but he was ready. He had never before been so angry with the Headmaster but he steadfastly kept his eyes forward and his face blank.

"Before we go back to my home I must inform you that you are not the only guest that I am hosting this holiday- though I should add that the other guest was actually invited."

"Severus," Dumbledore interrupted mildly. His eyes were rebuking the younger man for the statement more than his words.

"I was merely reinforcing the point to Mr. Potter that when I made it clear that I expect him to be respectful at all time that includes my houseguest. You will staying at my leisure Potter and no matter your inane reasons I will not have you provoking my guest who is staying under… trying circumstances," Snape explained, his eyes narrowing on Harry as he finished. "I care little about the pathetic rivalry that the two of you have engaged in together in the past, Draco Malfoy is my guest for the summer and you will remember your place."

Years of receiving nothing but bad news allowed Harry to hear this latest injustice without any outward reaction. He had already voiced his objections about staying with Snape and they had been ignored, he knew better than to imagine that taking a terrible situation and turning it into a complete disaster would grant him any change. "Is Mrs. Malfoy going to be alright? I know she's been… ill," he asked instead, in a tone that betrayed only polite interest rather than his inner torment at having to spend his summer with both Snape and Malfoy. At his question both professors stiffened and glanced at one another with unreadable expressions, a kind of silent communication seemed to pass between them and own wariness rose.

"Why would you assume that she is in any way unwell?" Snape asked suspiciously. One of his eyebrows was arched in distrust. "Seeing anymore into the Dark Lord's mind without bothering to inform anyone, are you?"

Harry raised his own eyebrow in return. "If I was, who exactly could I tell? No one contacts me over the summer and it's not something I could put in a letter, could I?" The barb was aimed as much at Dumbledore as Snape, though his gaze was only focused on the younger.

"So you admit that you are still gathering information from the Dark Lord?"

"I didn't realize that Voldemort spent his meetings worrying about the health of his followers," Harry replied coldly. He barely restrained himself from adding that it was 'no wonder that Snape loved spending so much time with the man' but knew after his earlier comments that would be pressing things with the Headmaster too far. Not to mention the fact that he still had to spend the better part of 5 weeks with the man and it would not to do to antagonize him too greatly before he had even arrived at the house.

"Severus, I think it would be wise to allow cooler heads to prevail," Dumbledore said gently. "Harry if you could explain how you knew that Narcissa was unwell?"

Harry sighed, cooling his temper and deciding to answer honestly. He turned to address Dumbledore as the accusing glare from the Snape was distracting, "I saw Mrs. Malfoy and Draco at Sirius' will reading a few weeks ago. She was obviously ill and Draco was trying to cover up for her. I think she thought that it was Sirius' father that had died. And she seemed to think that Draco was Lucius a few times."

The professors exchanged a strange glance that Harry couldn't quite interpret but he shifted uncomfortably. "Well Tonks and Lupin were both there, they must have told you about how she acted," he added defensively.

"Actually Harry the news that Mrs. Malfoy has apparently had a breakdown came as quite a surprise to everyone in the Order. It was only after the fact that both Remus and Nymphadora said that they were able to recognize that Draco appeared to be directing his mother very carefully throughout the meeting. You say that you noticed the whole time?" Dumbledore asked with interest.

Harry frowned, Tonks was a trained Auror, shouldn't she be paying attention to anything that was out of the ordinary? And that day, as distracted as he had been by Sirius' final wishes, he had seen that Narcissa Malfoy was a woman that could no longer distinguish reality.

"Yes sir." Harry answered simply.

"You are not to use this information to taunt Mr. Malfoy in any manner do you understand? Narcissa's condition was promised to be kept discrete."

"I wouldn't do that!" Harry answered heatedly, despite Snape always assuming the worst in him it surprisingly stung that the man thought so little of him that he assumed Harry would jump at the chance to ridicule someone for an ill parent.

"I am more than confident that Harry would never use a condition like this to cause a family member pain, Severus. Harry, as Severus pointed out Draco is quite unsettled about the his mother's recent ill-health and it would be best if no mention was made of it all, understood?"

"Yes sir. She hasn't had something like this happen before?" Admittedly Harry knew little about mental breakdowns but he had known a girl in primary school that had an aunt that lived with her sister and her family because she was in and out of institutions. Harry had been too young at the time to understand precisely what was wrong but he had understood enough at the time to know that whatever affected the poor woman was a chronic condition and not something that struck out of no where.

Snape paused, eying Harry as if trying to determine to what nefarious purposes he was asking the question."Narcissa has had trouble dealing with the stress of her husband's incarceration as well as what the Dark Lord's return means for the rest of her family," Snape finally explained.

"You mean she's not thrilled that Draco wants to be Death Eater? Or… is she upset that he already is one?" Harry asked, his own thoughts working quickly.

Would the mere thought of Draco following in his father's steps have been enough to cause such a strain on the woman? Or had she seen her son take the mark and panicked, knowing that Draco would never be able to satisfy the dangerous man? Harry knew enough of the character of his school rival and the workings Voldemort to know that the spoiled boy would not do well under his tyrannical rule. He was a bit surprised that someone as cold and calculating as Narcissa Malfoy appeared to be would have such a visceral reaction of fear to her son living up to the prejudiced ideal that he had grown up believing in. He would have thought that taking the Dark Mark in the Malfoy family was a cause for celebration.

"Potter how dare you go around making groundless accusations about things you could not possibly understand!" Snape ground out. His eyes were flashing dangerously and Harry knew that he had guessed right. _Death Eaters would defend one another, wouldn't they?_ Harry thought cynically. Harry glanced at the Headmaster, unable to believe that the man would still send him to stay with Snape after this information.

"Severus, Harry made no accusations, merely poised a theory without merit. And Harry, I trust you do realize the seriousness of suggesting such a thing without any proof."

Harry wondered bitterly how much evidence the Headmaster would need before he was willing to see the bad in people. Would he have to see Draco kill someone first?

"Draco is not a Death Eater however, the position that he has with his family at the moment is a vulnerable one," Dumbledore said quietly, his eyes very serious and Harry knew that the man had a very careful plan of action.

"Harry we are placing you in a critical position. It has not escaped my notice that you and Mr. Malfoy have had a certain…animosity towards one another over the last few years, but I am asking you to rise above previous rivalries and give him a chance. Mr. Malfoy's path in life is not as set as yours and he is a boy that is more easily influenced than someone like yourself might ever be able to understand. You have argued in the past that we have not had faith in you Harry, but I am not exaggerating when I tell you that your attitude and behavior towards a confused young man over the next few weeks might have far greater impact than you could possibly imagine. Do you understand?"

Harry initial reaction was that Dumbledore asking him to get along with Malfoy was the same ridiculous thinking that he had had when he asked the same of Sirius and Snape, but he forced the feeling away. If Snape was like his uncle, Malfoy was Dudley's magical clone, and he had seen for himself over the past few weeks that there was some hope for his cousin.

"Yes sir I do understand. I don't know if Malfoy is as confused as you think he is but I promise that I'll try not to convince him to join Voldemort just so he can get exact revenge on me."

Snape sneered at him, his eyes burning with anger at the idea of having Harry stay with him for the next five weeks. Harry should have realized that the moment Privet Drive hadn't seemed completely awful to him fate would find a way to remind him that he was meant to be miserable.

Snape's brisk voice cut in and he leveled Harry with his typical classroom glare. "While we're on the subject of rules, your location is unplottable and meant to be a closely guarded secret and I will not risk exposure due to your usual recklessness. While staying in my home you will not send or receive any post from your little friends, is that clear?"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Yes sir. Professor," he added turning to Dumbledore, "can you ask Mr. or Mrs. Weasley to tell Ron not to owl me? He can let Hermione know. Actually if you can just ask him look after Hedwig for the rest of the summer that would probably be best. She'll probably find him anyway. If Hermione wants to use Hedwig that would be great, she gets bored if she doesn't have anywhere to go after a while."

"Of course Harry. That is generous and I think the wisest course of action. I realize that this is added an inconvenience but I do agree that it will probably be safest not only for yourself but for your owl as well."

Harry only nodded. He could recognize the practicality of it but he wasn't sure if that was what motivated Snape's ban or not.

Dumbledore seemed to acknowledge that there was nothing else to say and with an uncharacteristically uncertainly look from the normally unflappable Headmaster he said, "Very well, than I suppose it is time to take your leave. Harry I trust that you remember everything that we have discussed, when the term recommences I have much that I would like to discuss with you and I hope that you would be agreeable to meeting with me on a fairly regular basis. There is much that I need to teach you."

Despite his anger at the man for placing in him what he considered an untenable situation, Harry couldn't deny that the great wizard had managed to intrigue him. Dumbledore knew more about magic than any wizard that Harry had ever met and the fact that he seemed to want to teach Harry thrilled him.

"Yes sir, I would like that." Harry said simply.

Snape's thin lips seemed to tighten as though he was too angry to even sneer properly at the thought of Harry spending private tutorial time with the Headmaster and Harry felt a small flash of satisfaction that such a small thing could cause the man such unhappiness.

"Excellent, once again Severus I sincerely thank you for you generosity. I will send Harry's things forward to you by later this evening. If you need anything from me, you of course know where to find me, all you need to do is ask. I hope the both of you find the remainder of summer more enjoyable than you expect," Dumbledore wished them off with a twinkle in his eyes.

Snape grunted in the Headmaster's direction, obviously feeling that the idea that they could in any way have an enjoyable summer ridiculous. Harry thought that this might very well be the first time that he had agreed with the sentiments of Severus Snape. "Follow me Potter. We will be traveling to my family estate which cannot be reached by floo." Long strides carried him down the hallway.

Harry kept pace with him and followed him outside of the hospital where it would be safe to apparate. "Grab my arm," Snape commanded and Harry fought a grimace at having to touch a man that his hatred for was only exceeded by Voldemort himself.

There was sickening, squeezing feeling. The pain was crushing, Harry couldn't breathe and for the space of a second he was certain that Snape had actually gone and done it after all- he had succeeded where Voldemort had failed and killed him. And then it was over and Harry involuntarily gasped for air, his knees shaking slightly and a feeling of nausea rising in his throat.

Snape shot him a disgusted look but said nothing. Harry wondered if apparition always felt that way. He knew that it was uncommon to side-along apparate another person. They were meant to be learning it later that year but Harry had once spoken about it with Fred and George and they had said that it was dangerous to do it with another person. Few people felt confident enough and Harry had never met a classmate from a Wizarding family that had done it alongside one of their parents. Now he could see why.

Snape had already set off at a brisk pace and Harry stumbled to keep up, not wanting to hear Snape's insults for his weakness. They walked up a steep hill that overlooked a small to average-sized town. It was set in a valley with a towering forest on two sides and a hill to the East. The houses appeared mostly muggle, or at least they showed none of the oddness of the Burrow- the only wizarding home that Harry had ever seen. The town was quiet but electric lights kept things bright and in spite of the isolation of their current location, there were not many stars.

They took a slight right so that they were facing North where a large hill stood, Harry could see a manor on a large piece of property. The wrought-iron gate were emblazed with the letter P on each side and Harry glanced quizzically at Snape as they headed through them with a wave of Snape's wand to allow them entry.

"My late grandfather's estate on my mother's side. The Prince family," Snape explained stiffly. "She was the sole heir."

Harry's memory flashed to the brief glimpses of memory he had seen in Snape's mind during Occlumency lessons, he had not had time to see much. Only hints at an unhappy home and what appeared to an abusive father but he had taken away the impression that Snape had not grown up with money and wondered how it was that his mother had left a grand house like this, only to end up with a seemingly poor and obviously abusive husband.

As they entered the house the first thing Harry saw was a dark foyer. In fact all of the interior was dark. There was a feeling of neglect about the place, but unlike Grimmauld Place, there was no dirt or clutter. Everything was in pristine condition as they made their way up through the rooms into the front parlor, but it was also old fashioned and cold. The feeling that living with the Snape would be just like the Dursleys grew as he saw that spotless surfaces and clinical precision in which everything appeared to placed around the room. ' _A place for everything and everything in its place'_ his aunt had told him over and over again as a child when he had been made to tidy the rooms. There were a smattering of portraits along the wall, filled with individuals that shared Snape's hawk-like features. Their black, cold eyes staring out with distain as Harry walked by, they were unusually silent as they observed him. In Harry's experience portraits enjoyed talking to passers-by as it was really their only source of entertainment but each of the potion master's decedents seemed to share his condescending personality, finding Harry unworthy of their recognition.

Malfoy was already in the parlor, scowling at Harry as soon as he entered the room. Malfoy was still dressed in robes despite the holiday and Harry knew that the pureblood had probably never worn 'muggle' clothing in his life. Though the robes were finely made, the Slytherin's appearance was not up to its usual high standard. His hair was slightly unkempt and he had bags under his eyes to show lack of sleep. Harry realized that despite his selfish nature, the other boy was suffering from the strain of having one parent incarcerated and the other apparently hospitalized. Harry might have felt bad for his school rival if not for the angry glare that was directed his way.

The room was as dark as the corridor had been, deep mahogany paneling lined the walls alongside bursting bookcases. The sofa was a fading black and had an elegant curve but a stiff, comfortable bearing in the cushions. "You better watch yourself Potter. We're not in Hogwarts anymore and Dumbledore isn't going to protect you at every turn," Malfoy taunted, his lips curling into a sneer.

"I don't remember needing much protection from you, but are you sure that you want to talk to me without Crabbe and Goyle providing a human shield?"

"Potter I have already warned you about showing proper respect while you stay in my home. I seem to be the only person capable of actually housing you this summer so unless you would like to turn yourself over to the Ministry and try a hand at their protection I suggest you don't test my patience."

Harry raised innocent eyes up at the professor. "I was only expressing concern Professor- Draco's never actually had to stand up for himself I just wanted to make sure that he was alright."

Draco snarled at him. "As if you have ever done anything without your Gryffindor shadows attached to your hips. Honestly Potter, I'm not sure if you'd remember to feed yourself without Granger whispering the answers in your ear."

"Enough. I will not listen to the two of you bicker for 5 weeks. Draco show Potter to the spare room off of the east corridor. Draco and I are both in the west, I think as much separation as humanly possible is preferable to us all at this juncture. Potter if there is anything that I need to know I expect you to inform me immediately. My rooms are the at the end suite. I take it your abysmal muggle relations have taught you the art of knocking on doors before entering?"

"Yes sir." Although Harry knew that he would never come to Snape willingly to tell him of a vision that he had had of Voldemort unless someone was dying... and he actually stood a chance of preventing it.

"The dining room is through the kitchen at the back of the house. Our mealtimes are 7:30, 1 and 7, if you are not present on time, you will not eat. I will not chase after you or cater to your every whim Potter. You are a guest here and I expect you to meet the conditions that I set. Namely that you will keep the room that I give you neat- no one will be made to clean up after you, and that you curb your ridiculous tendencies towards inappropriate curiosity and dangerous stunts. I will not be spending the remainder of my summer holiday running after you like a toddler, am I clear?"

"Yes sir," Harry grounded out, forcing himself not to ask the acerbic question about whether he should stay away from matches as well during his stay. Harry's face was heating with anger at the man and his complete inability to even utter a single sentence without dripping vitriol.

Draco smirked at Harry, delighted to see that he was being dressed down, "come on Potter, wouldn't want you to get lost now, would we?"

Harry saw that Dumbledore had somehow managed to already forward his trunk, it was standing upright by Fireplace, he collected it and followed the Slytherin, hunger pangs gnawing at him. He glanced at the hallway wall clock and saw that it was far past supper time and he not eaten anything all day. Habitual pride kept him from asking if he could have anything to eat despite the late hour, he would not suffer the humiliation of Snape rejecting his offer. He inwardly winced that for the first time he didn't even have any stored food in his trunk. In the past he had always been prepared for his relatives to starve him- _he must be getting weak_ , he noted with a grim smile. Once he fell asleep he would be fine and suddenly he felt bone weary tired. He could not remember a longer day in his life though he supposed that the day of the Third Task or the fight at the Ministry had perhaps felt similar at the time.

The manor was large but not extravagantly so. When Snape at called it an east corridor he had been more accurate than if he were to say 'wing'. They continued down the winding passage which appeared to have been made more complicated than it strictly needed to be, probably a Prince family pass time of making their guests feel inferior for getting lost. They passing a few doors that looked as though they might be bedrooms, one of the doors was open and Harry saw intricate furniture in the style of Louis XIV and he wondered if they actually dated from that era but Draco did not pause until they reached the end rooms. Harry wasn't sure if the previous owners of the house simply prided themselves on tradition or else the family fortune had been spent generations previously and all that remained were the relics. From what little Harry knew of Snape's past and personal preferences, he suspected the latter.

There were four rooms just off the side of the main hallway with one bathroom that would have attended all of the guests present. The rooms were smaller and far plainer than he had seen. Harry realized that at some point in time these must have served as servants' quarters, perhaps dating back to a time before House-elves had been used, and was unsure if this under Snape's orders or if Malfoy was simply goading him. Regardless, Harry had no intention of complaining. The room was about the size of the room that he had occupied at Privet Drive, but with better furniture and a mattress in far better condition than he was used to. It also had the further advantage of being even further away from the two Slytherins. Harry liked this both because it afforded him a means of escape during the day but also created a barrier during the night if he did have any night-time visions. He did not think that they would be able to hear him this far away and Harry happy not to be disturbed. Or worse... face a Snape in an even worse temper than normal after Harry roused him from what little 'beauty-rest' the man received.

"This is it then. You better watch yourself Potter. You aren't the golden boy here. You're finally going to learn your place."

"To bad no one ever taught you yours, Malfoy," Harry shot back. Malfoy sneered back at him but said nothing before leaving, slamming the door behind him.

Harry sighed and sank back into the bed, pressing both hands under his glasses to cover his eyes. He had been so worried about Dudley while at Hospital that he had had little time to concern himself with the condition of his aunt. He quite honestly had no idea how he felt about her at the moment. While never as overtly cruel as his uncle, Aunt Petunia had never shown Harry an ounce of affection. While he certainly regretted the fact that she was in such critical condition, was he really properly upset? He honestly didn't know. He felt numb to it. Should he feel worse? Did it make him as bad as Snape that he couldn't feel the same pain at her condition that he would have if it had been Ron or Hermione? Or was he weak for feeling anything for a woman that had always shown him nothing but indifference?

Images of the attack had been flitting in and out of his mind all day. That smell of burning bodies still sharp in his nose despite the fact that it had been hours since he had been near the smell.

Harry leaned back onto the bed, too tired to even undress himself and, without quite meaning to, fell into a deep sleep.

Harry was very nearly late the next morning. His sleep had been strange. Strange images had danced through his mind in a way that almost felt as though he had been awake and thinking of them consciously and yet at the same time he had felt as though he was almost buried in sleep, unable to pull himself up from the dreams he was having or the darkness of sleep.

When he had finally pulled himself out of whatever hold sleep had held over him, he realized that he needed to dress quickly or else risk missing breakfast- a nearly tragic situation at this point as he was ravenous after the impromptu fast from the day before. His trunk still held his school robes and even a few pieces of his muggle clothing that he had never bothered to take out. Dudley's hand me downs had never fit him well but the ones still remaining in the trunk were the worst of the lot. Harry grimaced at the fact that he was about to look ridiculous in front of the two Slytherins, who were sure not to pass up a chance to insult him.

He picked out a shirt that fell about his thin frame as though it were a smock and trousers that needed a few loops of Uncle Vernon's old belt in order to stay on and dashed down the hall. Harry had always been good at directions, when he had been young his trips out into the world had been few and far between but there had never been any doubt in his young mind that his aunt would have been nothing short of thrilled if he had managed to 'accidentally' get lost and he was never seen again. He had always paid close attention to where he had come from to avoid being utterly abandoned to the world, which helped him now to navigate the tight corridors and seemingly unnecessary turns that it took to get back to the parlor from the night before and follow the direction that Snape had indicated would lead him to the dining room.

Malfoy and Snape were both already seated when he got there, their polite conversation shutting down the moment the door opened to reveal the third occupant to the house. Both took in his clothes, their reactions varying drastically. Malfoy's eyes lit up with cruel delight and he let out a mocking bite of laughter. Harry glared at him coolly, unwilling to show any amount of weakness. Clothes had never mattered overly much to him and he refused to be embarrassed by a boy that had never worked a day in life for the expensive robes he was wearing during a school holiday. "Merlin Potter, I know you love muggles and their ridiculous costumes but I didn't think even you would stoop to muggle pauper. You're already an insult to the name of wizard, is it really necessary to be an insult to muggles too?"

"I wouldn't talk to me about being an insult to the name of wizard Malfoy," Harry said, echoing the sentiments that Arthur Weasley had once said to Lucius Malfoy- who was now in Azkaban for being a Death Eater.

It was Snape's reaction that was actually alarming however. While Malfoy had taken perverse delight in Harry's ragged clothing, Snape simply looked livid. He glared at Harry and rose to his feet, "what is the meaning of this Potter? Is this your attempt at insulting your host? Refusing to dress in any respectable manner?"

Harry's temper flared. It was easy for the two of them, sitting there in what were obviously tailored robes, to look down on someone that was not dressed as well as them. "I didn't realize that I was expected to dress for a ball just to have breakfast!" Harry shot out.

"And I would have thought that even a boy that delights in every opportunity to flaunt his status and wealth to the rest of the world would have the decency not to show up to meal as a guest looking as though he just stumbled out of a back alley!" Snape was stalking towards him and Harry had the uncomfortable urge to either back up or draw his wand. He was not allowed to draw his wand and such an action would only cause him more trouble, especially if he did so in front of Hogwarts professor, and long habit had taught him not to show fear in front a man that was trying to intimidate you.

Harry planted his feet firmly on the ground, his stance readying for a fight. "I'm not the one that takes every single decision another person makes and thinks it's some way to get to me. I have better things to do than worry if how I dress is going to ruin your day," Harry said coldly.

"Get out," Snape snarled, eyes blazing in anger, mouth twisting into something primal and ugly.

Harry's eyes widened, although he had known from the start that his living with the two Slytherins would be sure to be a disaster, even he had not imagined that he couldn't make it 12 hours without getting chucked out. For a moment there was an almost gut reaction to question how things had deteriorated so quickly. What had Harry ever done to Snape to warrant such untamable hatred?

But of course it didn't matter. Not really. Snape had hated Harry from the first day he had stepped into Hogwarts, perhaps the day he was born, and while Harry knew that he had never deserved such distain, Snape had always made it more than easy to return the feeling with fervor. The comparison of living with Snape to living with the Dursleys was complete- only last year Vernon had tried to chuck him out as well.

Harry's expression hardened and his voice was low with quiet anger as he said, "Fine, I knew this was mistake, I'm out of here."

"Don't even think about it!" Snape snapped.

"Have you lost your mind? You just told me to get out!"

"Out of the dining room. If you can't show me the proper respect than you obviously deem yourself too good for my company and therefore my food. I will not allow my goodwill and generosity to be thrown up in my face by a boy determined to show that he has no gratitude for it."

"You're saying that I can't eat unless I have clothes you approve of?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"I'm saying that there is no privilege that you can enjoy in this house without first showing myself and Mr. Malfoy proper respect as the guest that you are here."

Harry seethed, his fists clenched in fury that he was being denied food because he lacked decent clothes. If he was forced to stay in this house and was unable to eat until properly attired he was going to starve. Snape knew that his relatives house had burned down, knew that only a few things had been salvaged, the fact that he was punishing Harry for not having proper clothes was ridiculous. Harry felt his stomach contract with hunger pains, the long day yesterday catching up to him in full. Thankfully there was no audible growl that would have no doubt delighted the two Slytherins.

Harry didn't even know what to say. He learned well enough from the Dursleys to know that begging made no difference, not that his pride would have allowed such an action anyway. The idea of leaving for good anyway entered his mind but he had nowhere to go. The Weasleys was out of the question and in spite of the fury pounding in his veins at the moment he knew as number one on Voldemort's hit list he couldn't exact rent a room at the Leaky Cauldron as he had in Third Year. Not to mention the fact that as unfair as it all was, Snape was his professor at Hogwarts and was a Head of House. Despite the fact that he was not technically in charge of Harry, his position in the school enabled him to inflict any manner of punishment on Harry come the Fall Term. He felt trapped. Helpless to take control of his own life regardless of how able he was to take care of himself.

"Follow me!" Snape barked and in spite of himself Harry jumped a bit at the tone. He followed in the wake of the billowing robes, Malfoy scurrying at their heels as though given a surprise gift. "If you insist on dressing like a servant than you can act like one." They reached a door that led down to a cluttered and dusty potions lab. Unlike the rest of the house, it was obvious that it had not been used in many years- Snape would never keep a lab so disorganized or dirty. "Get to work cleaning, let's see how you feel about eating lunch. Mr. Malfoy I don't believe I asked for you to accompany us, I am more than capable of dealing with Mr. Potter on my own."

"Sorry sir, you hadn't made it clear that you preferred it that I stay behind," Malfoy answered.

Snape ignored this before turning back to Harry, this time pitching his voice low and deadly, "you are in my home Potter, this is not Hogwarts and right now I am not your professor nor are you my student. I am your guardian for the remainder of the summer and have the ability to punish you in ways that should have been employed a long time ago. Consider this punishment a warning. Follow my rules or suffer the consequences, do not make the mistake of thinking that this is a fight you have any chance of winning."

Snape stalked off before slamming the door behind him leaving Harry in semi-darkness as only a few of the torches were burning. Harry let out a shaky breath, more than a little unsettled at the direction things had taken on his first morning. He had been right the day before when he had reminded himself not to underestimate Snape, for all of their similarities, the potions master was a far more dangerous enemy than his uncle had ever been.

Harry spent a few minutes collecting himself, trying to figure out what to do. With a heavy sigh he realized that there was no way around the first course of action- he needed to get to work. Despite the fact that he was practically starving at this point, the work helped steady his temper. Much like his exercise at Privet Drive, the physical activity gave him an outlet and a focus for the restlessness that ran through him. He scrubbed furiously at the gathered dust and filthy cauldrons, putting his back into it and straining the muscles in his arms.

As his temper slowly cooled he thought back to the argument and realized that even by Snape's ridiculous standards it had been blow far out of proportion. There was more to Snape's anger than the simple belief that Harry had deliberately worn tattered clothing in an effort to disrespect him or undermine his hospitality.

 _As if the greasy git has any right to criticize me for not having money- I saw enough from his memories to know that Snape didn't always have money. He certainly didn't grow up in a manor and the clothes I saw him in when he was in room were almost as bad..._

That was the problem, Harry realized, Snape knew that Harry had seen his memories of his former poverty and had taken his current state of untidiness as Harry's attempt at subtly mocking him for it. Perhaps goading Snape by reminding him that Harry knew where the man had really come from and it was not some fancy manor that was complete with its house-elves. Although Harry did not know much about his parents' childhoods, he knew enough to know that James had come from money, the vast fortune currently sitting in his Gringott's vault showed that much. He also knew that it was sore spot with the professor. The idea of Harry not having proper robes or at least proper muggle clothes had seemed unlikely and Snape had jumped his usual conclusion- that everything that Harry did was a conscious decision to rub his wealth and fame in the face of others.

While on the one hand this explained Snape's over the top reaction, it did not diminish Harry's anger at being unfairly accused of acting in a way that he not only avoided but actively despised. Harry hated his fame and went to great lengths to avoid being in the press- with the sole exception of his exclusive interview to the Quibbler, which he had only done out of a necessity to get the truth out about Voldemort. And Harry had never once flaunted his money. In fact, Harry thought angrily, one could argue that he had spent remarkably little of the money his parents had left him. With the exception of needed school supplies and some spending money at school he had never used his parents' money for extravagancies. Both of the broomsticks that he had owned had been gifts- and if Harry had been forced to buy his own he would never have bought the Firebolt that he had now. While his money had been a point of contention between himself and Ron due to the Weasleys limited funds, Harry knew that in comparison to most of their classmates he spent a lot less money on himself than they did.

Despite the fact that Harry felt that the argument this morning was entirely of Snape's doing, he knew that he was going to have to fix this. Snape was right about one thing, as the so-called 'guardian' (the idea of Snape as his guardian made him want to vomit) he did have control over Harry. It was going to be an incredibly long, grueling 5 weeks if he didn't try to work this out quickly. He spent the rest of his morning scrubbing at the black, long counter furiously along with several old bronze cauldrons that had seen better days in an attempt to work off as much frustration as humanly possible. He was more agreeable when he was too tired to properly argue and lack of food combined with the stress of the previous day was beginning to make him a bit lightheaded. When it came to having to face down an unnecessary apology to a man he despised, Harry was rather happy to not have all his wits about him.

He needed to work out exactly what he was going to say to a man that distrusted everything that Harry said. There was not enough physical discomfort in the world that would get him to sorrowfully explain that these were his best clothes because his aunt and uncle had never spent so much as a pound on him. Harry had never owned a single piece of clothing, never possessed a toy to call his own. The fact that Malfoy wouldn't miss being there for all the galleons in Gringotts only made things worse.

He didn't think it would be too hard to explain, it was the most logical explanation. Something even Snape should feel foolish about not realizing sooner. That settled he allowed his mind to wander to other topics.

As he worked it dawned on him that he had been so caught up yesterday in the immediate injustice of not being able to contact his friends with the ban on owl post, he had forgotten he also lacked the ability to find out how Dudley or his aunt were doing. Truth be told the idea of writing to any of the Dursleys was so alien to him it had never occurred to him, even after just promising to keep in touch with his cousin only a half hour previously.

Snape, of course, had no idea that his aunt was in such dire condition and he was unsure how to even describe what was going on with Dudley. Would his cousin recover from the attack and learn to live with what happened or was he permanently scarred the way the Longbottoms had been? Dudley had at least been alert and coherent even if he was timid and jumpy. There was none of that horrible vacantness that Neville's parents had shown when Harry had inadvertently met them in St. Mungo's. Surely that meant that Dudley was just in shock, right? He wished that Hermione was there, she would know how likely it was if Dudley would make a fully recovery.

After what seemed like the longest morning Harry had ever endured the door at the top of the stairs opened and Snape's deep, silky voice growled, "Potter!" With a sigh that was equal parts weariness and exasperation, he steeled himself for the coming confrontation. If the sadistic man didn't believe him Harry was entirely unsure how long Snape was prepared to starve him. Even at his lowest points in the Dursleys he had never been more than two solid days without food- meager portions was a different story but at least he was given something.

"Would you care to explain your attitude this morning?" the professor asked him acidly.

"Sir... I wasn't trying to insult your hospitality, my aunt's house burned down and everything I was able to save was in a single trunk. All of my clothes were in my bedroom...now they're destroyed. I only had enough time to save what was most important and I needed to make sure that I had my school supplies. Quite honestly it didn't occur to me as the ceiling was collapsing that I might cause offense at the dinner table if I didn't pack appropriately," Harry added wryly. He would not, no matter the circumstances, beg forgiveness for a crime he had never committed.

Harry could see Malfoy's face droop in disappointment as he realized that Harry had a valid excuse for his attire and that even Snape wouldn't be able to punish him for a fire that destroyed everything that he owned.

Snape's face was its usual unreadable mask but the explosive anger from before was gone. Harry wasn't sure if the man had simply exhausted the emotion or else was actually willing to accept that he might have been wrong to fly off the handle so quickly.

"Are you saying that these are the only articles of clothing you possess?" he asked archly.

Harry shrugged, "I have a couple pairs of school robes that I didn't think you would want me to wear- though to be honest at this point they're not in much better condition than these anyway. And I have a few more muggles things that aren't any better than this."

"Why do you keep a bunch of muggle rags in your school trunk?" Malfoy asked haughtily. Harry was fairly confident that he had managed to keep the flush of embarrassment that he felt from showing on his face. Most people simply wore school robes but there were times when the students wore either casual robes or muggle clothing on the weekend, especially when going to Hogsmeade, if Harry had wanted to wear muggle clothes at school, why not bring the best ones?

"These were the ones that were left over after I unpacked. Mostly I use them for work clothes or as scrap material if I needed rags," Harry answered smoothly. Not a complete lie, there had been slightly better garments that had been left in his old room but nothing he owned could have ever have been described as fashionable.

Snape seemed to grimace as he realized that he couldn't continue to punish Harry. "In that case... I suppose it is the best that you can manage. Clean yourself up and sit down for lunch."

"Yes sir," Harry grunted, angry at the man for being incapable of a simple apology. Was it so hard to admit that he had misinterpreted Harry's intentions? Harry might despise Snape with his entire being but he knew that if the situation was reversed and he had been able to punish him for something that he hadn't done, Harry would have at least had the courage to admit it. Perhaps he shouldn't have been surprised...neither of his current housemates had chosen to value courage over their own self-interests.

Harry quickly washed his hands and tidied his appearance as much as he was able in the lavatory, hunger pains forcing his pride to the side, and returned to the table. There was an elderly house-elf setting out the mid-day meal that stopped and bowed. "Young sir, Eppy is most honored to serve you as Master's guest. Is there anything else that young sir is needing?" There was a spread of chicken with greens and hot rolls.

"No thank you Eppy, this all looks great, I really appreciate it, it looks like you've done an amazing job."

Eppy blinked in surprise for a moment before grinning broadly and offering a low bow. "Young sir is too kind to Eppy. Eppy is only doing his job."

"You can call me Harry."

"Young sir Harry is kind wizard, Master is wise to choose such good friends," Eppy offered as Snape entered into the room, scowling at the elf.

"I don't believe that I asked for you opinion on who I choose to invite to my table," Snape responded coldly.

"Eppy is sorry master, Eppy should not be saying things about how Master is choosing his very good friends. Eppy will punish himself."

"No!" Harry called out, shooting a disgusted glance at Snape, his eyes flicking over to Malfoy as he remembered the horror stories that Dobby would tell him about serving the twisted Slytherin family. "Eppy please don't punish yourself over trying to give me a compliment, you didn't do anything wrong. Did he?" he asked Snape pointedly.

Snape raised an eyebrow at the reprimand in Harry's voice but for once seemed to reign in his temper. "No Eppy, you did not. You do not need to punish yourself for assuming the best in Potter, if everyone who did that was forced to punish themselves the world would be a horrific place," he added.

Eppy glanced uncertainly at Harry as though unsure how to take this comment but Harry grinned at him. "Thanks Eppy."

"Yous is most welcome young sir Harry."

Harry waited only long enough for Snape and Malfoy to fill their plates, unwilling to make a drastic mistake in serving himself too quickly only to be told that he was being rude and ungrateful and therefore not allowed to eat, before quickly spooning pieces of chicken onto his plate and then into his stomach. He was eating quickly, a bit too quickly, and both Slytherins seemed to notice but he couldn't help it at moment. After finishing his first plate Harry let out a small breath of relief before reaching with his hand for one of the hot rolls.

"Merlin Potter, have the Weasleys rubbed off on you? You eat like someone is going to grab your plate and run." Malfoy had been shooting him smug little looks during the whole meal. His earlier withdrawn attitude gone, replaced by his old swagger of cruel confidence.

Harry swallowed the large bite that he had taken from his second roll and for once said nothing in return. "I would hardly comment on manners given the fact that you've been eyeballing the lad the whole meal," a sneering voice with a strange accent that Harry couldn't place muttered from the portrait behind him. Harry gave a snort of laughter before stifling it, ducking his head to avoid Snape blaming him and deciding that he had eaten his fill- he had not.

Malfoy's eyes widened but rather than look insulted there was an unexpected flash of fear across the boy's features. Snape's eyes darted from the portrait back to Harry, his expression calculating.

"Is it terrible that a petty squabble of proper attire and table manners is the most stimulating conversation to grace this table in the past 15 years?" the man commented again, his oddly stilted speech at full volume.

Harry's lip twitched again but was surprised when the potion's master said nothing. He had never known Snape to back away from an insult and the fact that this one came from a mere portrait he would have thought irreverent. "Who would have imagined that utter silence was actually preferable to last week's diatribe on the horror of incompetent house-elves that do not know how to properly pack trunks? Sheer agony."

Harry chuckled at the way the man continued to insult Malfoy before straightening in his chair as both Slytherins stared at him. He shrugged defensively, "you have to admit it was a little funny."

"What was funny?" Malfoy asked, his brow furrowing, his expression wavering between confusion and frustration.

Harry stared at the blond. "You just heard what he said about you. Pretending you didn't hear it doesn't make me think that I made it up, Malfoy."

Malfoy's face flushed that strange pink color he attained when angry but Snape cut in before the blond could answer. "Potter... what does Parseltongue sound like to you?" It was perhaps the first time he had ever heard Snape ask a question and want a genuine answer. There was sarcasm or spite but instead an honest curiosity as though the Head of Slytherin had always wondered himself. Though it had been Snape and Malfoy's combined spellwork that had not only revealed Harry's parseltongue ability to himself but the entire school, neither one had ever questioned him about it before. The only people Harry had ever talked to about the unique talent were Ron, Hermione and Professor Dumbledore.

Harry blinked and then turned in his chair to see the portrait for the first time. The man was obviously an ancestor of Snape's, he had same curtain of black hair, the same shallow complexion. Surrounding him on the floor of the picture were no less than a half dozen snakes, currently quiet but eyeing him with interest.

"And now I am interested," the man hissed. He could hear the slight exaggeration of S that was prevalent in parseltongue but the accent he had heard was a quality he had never heard before. "An actual parselmouth. And I had thought that the Dark Lord was the last of the breed."

Harry turned back to the humans in the room and blinked before answering. "I hear English, unless I know to look for it." He turned back to the portrait and his next words were a hiss. "I never knew that parselmouths had accents. I've never heard one before."

The man shifted uncomfortably before changing to English himself. "I was not born a parselmouth, I studied it for many years."

"Edmund Dupont Prince. My great, great uncle I believe," Snape said with an air of distaste. "One of very few men to ever study parseltongue enough to be considered fluent. Sentenced to death by the Wizengamot after he raised and trained an army of runespoors to attack a group of villagers."

"A group of villagers that were attempting to take my land!" Prince argued. "Bunch of thieving muggles. It should never be considered a crime to defend your property."

"Indeed," Snape answered emotionlessly. "And the rest of the town was merely used as an example to others I suppose. As you can see Potter, there are reasons why parselmouths have a reputation in the Wizarding World. Why was it again that you spent decades learning parseltongue, Edmond? To be able to command the deadliest of armies without the fear of them turning to another leader after you exploited them as there was no one else that could speak the language?"

Harry frowned at the portrait who was glaring at his descendent without a shred of remorse. "Survival of the fittest Severus. It's why you survived the first war. It's why this one has a chance," he said nodding his head in Harry's direction. "And why this one probably won't make it past the first purge," he added nodding in Draco's direction, who flushed once more at the insult.

"I wouldn't be giving advice about surviving after the way you were strung up by an angry mob and dragged to justice for your crimes," Snape responded smoothly.

Edmond smirked darkly, "I still managed to get them off my land. My sons managed the property until their deaths and their decedents still have it today. There is more than one way to survive in this world young Slytherins."

Snape and Malfoy both wore heavy frowns but Harry found himself nodding at the last sentiment. It was true after all, your memory lived on with your family, with your friends. After learning the prophesy Harry knew that his chances at living to see the end of the war were not great. But if Ron and Hermione survived, if the Weasleys or Remus were able to live their lives and know that they were safe because he had done all that he could, he would die a happy man.

Snape's gaze seemed to flicker as he took in Harry's agreeing nod, his lips pursing and his eyes darkening. There was a strange glint in his eyes that on another person might even look like concern or even sympathy. For the second time in the last few minutes Snape had looked at Harry with an emotion other than anger or hatred and Harry wasn't sure how he should react.

"I believe that we are all quite finished here." He announced. "Potter, I trust that you have homework that needs to be done and given your usual work ethic I can't imagine that you've even started it yet. I suggest you go to your room. Remember I told you that I expect it neat while you stay here."

Grabbing another roll quickly Harry nodded, "yes sir. Er... professor... I meant to ask. I understand that I can't send owl post but my aunt is still in hospital and I know that my cousin is concerned about her. He... well I promised to write to him, is there any way that I can deliver a letter to him?" Harry asked, attempting to use Snape's newly found decent mood to his advantage. Snape and more importantly Malfoy did not know the true circumstances of the fire and therefore Harry could not properly explain just how upset his cousin was.

Snape paused, those fathomless black eyes staring at him for a moment before a curt nod. "I refuse to be your owl Potter but I will ensure that you are able to inquire about your aunt. Get me a letter by tomorrow evening and I will pass it along. Do not make this habit, I do not need you and your cousin harassing me with your pointless trivialities. Wait till Hogwarts to catch up on his social affairs, am I understood?"

Harry nodded, "yes professor," keeping his face as neutral as possible. Lack of emotion that was the way to handle Snape. He dismissed himself from the room, determined not to reemerge from his bedroom until dinner time, he was going to have to find a few ways to sneak some food off the table. It was time to use his Dursley-survival techniques, he was not about to be caught without solid meals anymore.

 **A/N: Thank you all so much for continuing to read and especially those who leave a review. Any suggestions on dialog or pacing? This is a chapter where I tend to break my own rules and give Snape a house that is most decidedly not-Canon but at least with an attempt at an explanation of why he would have it.**


	8. Unwelcome Visitor

**Chapter Eight: Unwelcome Visitor**

 **Interlude: Snape**

The next day dawned bright and obnoxiously cheerful. The relentless summer fog had broken at last and it was one of those perfect golden days in which the blue sky stretched out endlessly and the gentle breeze staved off the worst of the heat. In other words- it was perfect Quidditch weather and behind the Manor was a well concealed grove that proved the perfect area for flying without having to worry about being spotted by muggles. Severus frowned at his own poor luck, Potter was already going to be even more annoying and entitled today of all days, and now with the temptation of playing his favorite pastime in such excellent conditions, he was going to raise hell when he learned about Severus' plans for the day. Severus let his breath out slowly, steeling himself for the inevitable confrontation that he was about to endure. Regardless of what Potter might think, July 31st was a normal day for the rest of the world and Severus had no intention of upending his life any more than he had already done.

As he left the room and headed down the hall Severus mused, not for the first time in his life, about the undue ceremony people seemed to place on birthdays. It was as though merely existing for another year was some sort of accomplishment. _Though when it comes to Potter, I suppose congratulations should be in order given the trouble the boy lands himself in._

Severus had unchangeable plans for the day and he was going to be damned if the brat's over-inflated ego ruined them. He came into the dining room to find Potter already there, which was a first as for the past five days since his arrival Potter usually only showed up at the last minute. In fact, the best thing that could said about Potter as a houseguest was that he was as eager to stay out of Severus's company as he was the boy's. Potter has remained largely in his room, Merlin only knew what trouble the boy had somehow managed in a single room but at least he and Draco were avoiding one another and Severus' sanity was somehow still intact nearly a week later. An event that he would not at all have been willing to place galleons on a week ago. Even better was that for once Eppy the House-elf was not engaged in some inane conversation with the boy. Severus had never seen anyone besides the Headmaster hold an actual conversation with an Elf but Potter never failed to ask how she was doing or comment on the meal that they were having. It was, Severus was forced to admit, strangely polite. Not something that he would have ever expected from a Potter- though he supposed that the boy's muggle upbringing was largely at play here. Muggleborn or raised children were invariably confused with the use of House-elves and their desire to serve. Granger's none-to-subtle campaigns in the Great Hall was proof of that. Still Potter did not approach the Elf with pity or guilt as many muggleborns would initially, but instead a genuine friendliness that Severus had only seen him use among his fellow Gryffindors.

Potter didn't seem to notice that he was no longer alone, instead he was distracted by what appeared to be more glaring at than reading the paper that was currently in front of him.

"Dragged yourself out of bed at a reasonable hour for once? How extraordinary."

Potter's glare shifted upward until it was on the Potion's Master but for once he said nothing, instead he returned his attention back to the paper as his other hand absent-mindedly spooned porridge into his mouth.

"While it comes as no surprise to me that you lack basic table manners, during the duration of your stay under my roof can you at least have the common decency of looking at the other people at the table," Severus snapped, knowing the statement was more than hypocritical. He spent most mornings reading the paper while eating with Draco.

He more than expected Potter to snap in return but the boy was unusually quiet as he folded the paper and dropped it behind a dish so that only a partial headline could be read " **Chosen One- THE BOY-"**

 _Of course_ Severus thought _the only news that would interest the boy would be about himself._

"Morning Severus," Draco greeted quietly. Severus frowned, since the troubles with the boy's parents, Draco had been unusually withdrawn and quiet. He had hoped that in the past few days, with the distraction of Potter's presence, he had started to come out of it. He knew that the incarceration of his father had strongly affected him, leaving him angry and bitter but it was his mother's current frailty that resonated with him the most. Draco had not expected his involvement with the Dark Lord to have such an impact and the pressure of his decisions were mounting. At the moment Severus was unsure if the young Slytherin would use this a needed wake-up call and walk away from dreams of being a Death Eater or else propel him to 'provide protection' for a family he saw as more vulnerable than ever. Seeing the pale face and tired expression, he wondered if the boy had had a hard night and resolved to try to distract his thoughts as quickly as possible. As a person that was more than familiar with the effects of bad dreams he knew that the best remedy was a distracted mind.

"Good morning Draco, I'm glad to see that you're up early. I have a busy day and I can't leave the two of you to your own devices for hours on end."

Potter raised an eyebrow at this pronouncement while Draco actively scoffed, "Severus we're not infants, I'm sure even Potter can survive for a few hours unsupervised. I can look after things, I _am_ a prefect at school, I'm used to the responsibility. Besides, in case you forgot in another year we're of age anyway."

"Yeah, I'm used to looking after myself and Draco can just watch himself in the mirror, it's his favorite pastime anyway," Potter offered.

"Lest you both forget, age 16 means as of now you are _not_ adults. We are currently in the middle of a war and with the two of you under one roof you make a fine pair of targets from both sides. How I wound up in this untenable situation is beyond me," Severus muttered, his glare solely on Potter this time. "Besides, Draco you are familiar and welcome in the village and while you would be fine on your own, I rather thought you would prefer a more…shall we say social arrangement." Severus asked with as much patience as he could stand when his directions were called into question. He turned with considerable less tolerance towards his other charge. "On the other hand, under what circumstances do you really think I want Potter running amok in my house when I'm not present?"

"I could always just stay in my room, make no noise and pretend that I don't exist," Potter replied dully, his eyes betraying a hint of humor that Severus didn't understand but for some reason made him uneasy.

"And you could just lock the door so that he can't get out," Draco added maliciously. Potter only rolled his eyes to this addendum to the provisions of his stay.

"Ah a capital idea Mr. Malfoy," Severus drawled. "In an attempt to convince me that you are in fact mature enough to remain on your own, you first suggest the imprisonment of a minor and secondly create an obvious hazard if there was an emergency. Well done indeed."

Draco's face flushed a dull pink and muttered something about only joking in the first place.

"As I've said, today I am occupied and will be in the future so I have found a solution that will work well for later engagements as well, in addition now that this house is occupied by another guest the overly involved townspeople in this area will notice eventually and start asking questions that we don't want to answer truthfully. Potter, I trust that even you can realize the danger of unknown wizards discovering that you are staying with me?"

Potter nodded, his expression impatient. "But I thought that the entire point of me staying with you was that no one was supposed to know that I was here?"

"No Death Eaters are supposed to know that you are here. This village is protected and cannot and HAS not been breached in the past 300 years. It is this reason that the Headmaster requested that you stay here. With me." Severus sneered. "Stand up."

"Why, what are you going to do?" the boy asked suspiciously.

Severus glared, "I was planning on murdering you and thought it would be more dramatic to see your entire body crumble rather than just fall out of the chair. You are the most unnecessarily obstinate person I have ever had the misfortune of meeting. For once just do as you're told."

"It's obstinate to want to know what someone is planning to do to you before letting it happen? And you say Gryffindors are reckless," he spat.

Severus lost his patience and grabbed the boy's arm, yanking him to his feet with perhaps more force than necessary. He hadn't even realized how tightly he was grabbing the arm until he noticed that his fingers were slightly stiff as he released him. A flash of guilt hit him. After the misunderstanding with the clothing just the other morning he had vowed that he was not going to manhandle the boy in such a manner. He had always sworn to himself that he would never turn into his father. That he would never resort to violence against a child.

Draco's eyes were wide at the sight but when he recovered from his shock a smile spread slowly on his features. Potter had reacted quickly to get his feet under himself in the rush forward, his own expression hard and closed off. Severus briefly flashed to the terrible moment when Potter had found the memory of Lily and the way he had destroyed their friendship, and Severus' reaction to it- the stark fear in the boy's eyes at the rage in front of him. It was rare to see Potter so openly afraid of someone and when the realization had come- later after his second Firewhiskey- that he had caused a student to feel that they were in actual danger, he had felt a rare moment of regret. Now, however, the Gryffindor had seemingly braced himself for whatever was about to happen. Severus wasn't sure which reaction upset him more.

"I am going to change your appearance. You will be staying here for the remainder of the summer and will not be able to stay in the house at all times."

"I thought that the point of me staying with you in the first place was to stay in your 'unplottable' house?" Potter asked, taking a casual but deliberate step backwards. He was just out of arm's reach now and somehow Potter had positioned himself by the door. Severus was almost impressed, he didn't think the boy had an ounce of sense in him. "Why does anyone even have to know that I'm here at all?"

"The point of you staying with me is to make sure that no one can find you," Severus corrected firmly. "This is a very different town than one you are used to. I never said that the house was unplottable, I said the location was. The town itself is hidden. Crescent Nest is a town that combines the muggle and magical worlds almost like no other. It is home to the largest clan of Vampires in Britain but is also known as a safe-haven for squibs. Long ago there was a massacre of muggles by a rival werewolf clan and it created a virtual feeding frenzy among the younger vampires. In retribution, the Clan formed an alliance with the Wizards and created a sanctuary of sorts for the non-magical beings in the area. We have one of the largest hospitals in three townships and among muggles the town is well-known for taking care of weaker elements of society.

"The Wizarding Families that live here have been here for generations, though I have not returned here for many years, my name is still well known here. It is an unfortunate burden that as the largest land-owning Estate-owner that when I am present I am expected to participate in continuing the work the other wizards have started. They are a small but powerful minority and it is not unusual for there to be many impromptu visitors. No wizard can enter this town without the express permission of another wizard that already lives here but once someone new enters, all of the wizards in the town are aware of it. We have been lucky the past few days, mostly due to the yearly festival that occurs in the next town. Your presence will be discovered and I would rather it be on my terms than someone else's. Add to that the fact that, as I have said, you need supervision when I am unable to provide it, and this will give us the perfect opportunity."

It must have been a testament to his guilt at grabbing the boy that he had explained as much as he had. He had never cared for long explanations, he rarely understood why people were not prepared to answer their own questions. In his classroom he refused to reiterate what should have been read in the text on their own and confined his lectures only to that which was not to found in the reading.

Potter nodded slowly, his eyes watching him warily. "So all this time I thought I had to stay in the house the whole time to be safe, I could have gone anywhere in town?"

Severus' jaw clenched and he wondered why he bothered affording the brat any kind of consideration. The only thing the brat had gotten out of his explanation was that once again poor-Harry-Potter didn't get exactly what he wanted. "You can go where I tell you I approve of and with whom I approve of you associating with. The last thing anyone needs is for the beloved 'Chosen One' to run off with the wrong wizard. This town is known for being safe but one can never truly know what another person will do or where their true allegiances lie."

Potter raised an eyebrow at this and gave his professor an appraising look that Severus did not appreciate. Slowly Potter nodded once more but continued to keep a suspicious eye on the wand in front of him. Severus waved his wand and transfigured the boy's appearance slightly. The dark hair was now a light brown, slightly longer to better hide the scar so that it covered his ears. Another flick and he added a dash of freckles just across the bridge of the nose. "The transfigurations will last for about 20 hours so I will reapply them each morning whether you are planning on leaving the house or not in case company comes by unexpectedly."

He handed the boy a set of contact lens. "Put them in and look at the wall," he commanded. With a wave of his wand an eye chart appeared. "Tell me when you think you can see the fourth line," he said jabbing forward with his wand in small degrees. Potter was quiet longer than he expected so that just when he was convinced the boy was being difficult and was about to scold him, he finally said, "I think I got it."

"Read it out loud."

"J.D.L.P.Q.W."

"Merlin Potter you better pray that the Dark Lord never breaks your glasses or you're a dead man," Draco quipped with a grin. Severus couldn't say he disagreed.

Potter shifted his shoulders in discomfort, more upset by the words than Severus would have expected. He jabbed again. "Again."

"J.B.L.R.Q.V"

"Read the fifth line."

It took another two corrections for Potter to finally have the proper results and when he finally had the proper charm on the lens Severus noticed that Potter looked rather surprised at his surroundings, glancing surreptitiously at his old pair of glasses. It dawned on Severus that the boy's prescription must be wrong but rather than mention that to someone who obviously had the means of correcting the problem the boy was being his usual stubborn self. Well if the boy couldn't condescend to ask for help that he needed he wouldn't go out of his way to offer it.

"Now we will be going to a potion's shop that is owned and run by Madam Littlefold. She's a squib and as far as anyone is concerned in this village from now on, you are a registered squib."

"Registered squib?" Potter asked over Draco's chuckles, clearly delighted with this latest addendum.

Severus sniffed impatiently, "honestly Potter, have you ever once attempted to learn about our world on your own or do you just assume Granger will speak for you?"

"Actually when it comes to Wizarding Traditions I can ask Ron too. Advantages to actually having good friends," he answered snidely.

"Magical ability is a spectrum, I assume you know that much?" he asked rhetorically. "Someone like Albus Dumbledore or the Dark Lord are at the top of the spectrum, obviously squibs barely register at all. As you have undoubtedly noticed over the years some students have more power behind their spells than others. Now there are some wizards that have some magic, but not much. They are not technically squibs since they can perform spells but they are so weak that effectively they are little better than them. You are too old to have just been discovered as a squib but in order for there to be a reason for you to be here we need to act as though there is a cause for a change in your circumstances. Therefore the story that you will be telling the Madame is that you failed to receive any OWLs with the exception of an Acceptable in Potions and will not be returning to Hogwarts as you do not qualify for any NEWT level classes. Therefore will need training for your new role in life. Sylvia has helped to transition many squibs over the years and will give you a job doing menial labor on the days that I need her to. Before you complain this story gives the added advantage of having people over look you. The Wizarding Families in this town are notorious for their gossip and interloping but they will have little interest in a boy with such poor magical ability. Any questions?"

Draco was grinning widely at the idea of the famous Harry Potter having to act the part of a squib but Potter was surprisingly unresponsive. Severus had expected a revolt from the teen, both at the idea of having to be known as a squib and for the announcement that he would be spending his birthday working for a woman that he didn't know. Potter's usual defiant glare was in place but he made no other complaint and it occurred to Severus for the first time that Potter had yet to mention his birthday at all that morning.

"What about Draco? I assume that he'll still be known as a wizard?" Potter asked pointedly in an attempt to show the unfairness of only one of them being asked to play this part.

"Draco has met Madam Littlefold in the past and he knows the area a bit. As there is considerably less threat to Draco's life than the famous 'Chosen One's', he will not require a disguise. He will however," Severus turned to the Slytherin with a look that brokered no argument, "need to change into muggle clothing. Though it has a fairly high magical population, at least compared to most, Crescent Nest is first and foremost a muggle town and Draco I need not remind you the importance of remembering that."

Draco scowled, "I understand why Potter has to show his face but why does that mean that I have to go out and associate myself with a bunch of muggle filth?"

Severus pursed his lips, staring the teenager down until the Malfoy heir was forced to shift uncomfortably. "I would suggest that you refrain from broadcasting that attitude, even if not through actual words. You will be here for the remainder of the summer Draco- there is no need to bring unnecessary problems. You will not be required to work at the shop as there is no need to explain your presence other than to say that you are visiting but you will have to deal with muggles of this town on a day to day basis. I suggest you both think of today as a learning experience."

Potter scoffed, "Because clearly of the two of us I'm the one that needs a greater appreciation of doing things the muggle way," he scoffed before turning serious for a moment. "What if there is an attack? Will a squib be able to fight off Death Eaters?"

"Potter you surprise me, I would have thought you would jump at the opportunity to heroically defend them! That is your specialty, isn't it?"

Potter's jaw clenched, his hands balled into fists at his sides. "Sir," he grounded out, visibly fighting down a scathing remark, "I just wondered why you thought this would be safer than just having me stay in the house. You're the one that told me that the Death Eaters don't come here, now you want me to leave. I don't think it's out of line to ask why it's safer going around town than just staying here."

The calmness of the answer actually came as a surprise to Severus, who had expected the boy to lash out as he always had in the past. The previous year the boy had displayed a terrible temper and he had decided that if he was going to be forced to take in the brat for the summer he was at least going to teach him some control. He was almost a bit put out that Potter's response was so logical, for once he didn't have a sharp retort.

"As I've said, the town itself is safe from an outside attack but further than that Madame Littlefold has been doing this for a long time, she has protections against wizards that are different than anything else you might find. In fact if you were a fully qualified, of-age wizard it wouldn't be safe for you to even stay there. Now get yourself ready to go, your constant questions have put us behind schedule."

"Severus, it's about time you got here, I haven't got all day. Draco, pleasure to see you again, Catherine has been staying with me full time now, I remember that the two of you used to get along quite well."

Draco forced a smile but Severus knew that the teen was uncomfortable. When Draco had been quite young the bright and energetic older girl had fascinated him as she had been so different from anyone else his parents had introduced him to, but that changed over time. There was the fact that girl had been sorted into Hufflepuff, which had immediately soured the Slytherin's opinion of her even though she was four years older than him but more importantly Catherine's condition was not something that Draco knew how to handle well and instead preferred to distance himself entirely. "Nice to see you as well Madame, it's been a long time."

"That it has, how is Hogwarts these days?"

Draco grimaced but seemed to think before saying anything disparaging against the Headmaster. Severus knew that Draco had no use for most squibs, like his parents he found them to be an embarrassment among the magical community and especially to their own families. Something Severus largely agreed on. However, the Madame's shop was something of a legend, handed down through generations of squibs and their protégés rather than a direct family line and offered potions and enchantments that could not be found by any other apothecary. Therefore it was rewarded with more respect than the average establishment run by a squib would have been by the larger magical community.

"And you must be the boy Severus told me about," Sylvia said, finally addressing the other boy.

"Yes ma'am, thank you for taking me in today," the boy answered with surprising politeness.

"Don't thank me yet boy, I have a lot of work for you to do. I'm sure your parents have always used magic for household tasks but it looks as though that won't be an option for you, best get over the aversion to work now. I hope you realize that I don't coddle my charges, I know a lot of people have probably told you how 'sorry' they are that you can't perform the spells properly or maybe they always said that it would get easier as you get older. I don't like to sugar-coat things, you're in for a long day, glad to see you dressed for it," she added taking in the boy's clothing. "What's you name again? Severus told me but it slipped my mind."

Potter frowned at the remark about his attire, his eyes narrowing slightly at the woman's tone. "This is Jimmy Evans," Severus introduced, realizing that he had never told Potter the invented name. He had wanted a name that the boy wouldn't forget or try to contradict and for some reason Lily's maiden (her _real_ ) name wouldn't leave his mind.

"Alright then," Littlefold said with her usual briskness. "Draco go around back and find Catherine, I think she might need some help preparing ingredients. As for you lad, perhaps in a few more visits you can try your hand as a Potion's assistant, after all you still need a career in your life but for now we're going to build-up your menial tasks. The first lesson I'm going to teach you is that there is no sympathy in this world for you just because you drew a short lot in life. I've done this a long time and I know how 'unfair' you feel it is, but life is life and there's no way around that. This is a list of chores, I expect them to be done by the end of the day, come find me if you have questions about what to do but you'll find all the supplies you need in the cupboard in the back room."

"Yes ma'am," Potter agreed, his eyes narrowing at her speech about getting over the fact that life was unfair. Severus could sense that Potter wanted to say something but for once he wasn't quite sure what the Gryffindor was hiding behind his closed expression.

Severus smirked inwardly, he had known Sylvia for years and he knew full well that the first day was a test. The chore list was almost impossibly long, Sylvia had once told him that in all the years she had been helping young squibs adjust to the unfairness of their lot in life she had only had four people complete the list and only two to her actual satisfaction. Potter was in for a hell of day.

Severus apparated to Hogsmeade, nodding to Aberforth as he entered the darkness of the Hog's Head. "Did you get what I asked?"

"And a pleasure to see you as well professor, so happy to do business with a man that truly values the people he works with," Aberforth replied gruffly. For a man that sought out no personal relationships of his own he was surprisingly critical of Severus' distaste for small talk or banal pleasantries. Undeterred, Severus raised an eyebrow and waited for the confirmation he was expecting- he was disappointed.

With a swift return to crafty businessman, Aberforth shook his head, "No, no one's been in for a week. Rumor has it that one of the Dark Lord's attacks ran into some complications and he hasn't been pleased."

Severus grimaced in distaste, grateful for the moment that he had not been present when his so-called Master had been informed of the failure. The violence that the man would have unleased would have been horrible and there was always the chance of being caught in the crossfire even if you were not responsible for the latest disappointment to a man that tolerated nothing less than perfection. He knew from experience that the Dark Lord preferred to limit information so he was not surprised that he had been unaware of any such attack, but was disappointed that his usual lines of inquiry had not given him so much as a whiff of something coming.

"You mean to say that the Aurors actually managed to do their jobs for once? Shocking."

Aberforth winked, "everyone gets lucky sometimes and remember: it's always better to be lucky than good."

"Ah, Mr. Potter's life mantra."

"Hmmm," Aberforth grunted noncommittedly. Over the years the barkeeper had heard every possible account of the 'Boy-Who-Lived'- as a savoir, as a crackpot, as kind-hearted-soul, as a dunderheaded imbecil- but he had stubbornly refrained from ever commenting himself. For those that knew Aberforth they recognized how strange it was.

The conversation stopped as the door opened more out of ingrained habit in the establishment than any current necessity. "Severus I'm glad you were able to get away for a bit. I trust things are going better than first anticipated?" Albus Dumbledore greeted him warmly.

"Absolutely. After I murdered Potter the first night Mr. Malfoy has been in terrific spirits," Severus deadpanned. He was annoyed to see that Dumbledore's infernal twinkle didn't so much as dim. "Let's get this over with Albus. I have things I need to attend to today."

"Yes how silly of me, today is Harry's birthday and as his temporary guardian I would imagine that you have something planned to mark the occasion?"

Severus sneered at the Headmaster, knowing full well that Albus had no such expectations and was merely trying to lay guilt on him for failing to fulfill an obligation that was far beyond the scope of anything that should have been his. He had allowed the ungrateful brat to stay with him- providing yet another occasion in which Potter was able to be the center of attention was not part of the bargain. He had never received a large celebration for his birthday as a child and had often wondered at the need others had to blow an ordinary day out of proportion. At 16 surely even Potter didn't require such a hollow affirmation of his continued existence in the world.

"Have you spoken with Draco?" Albus asked, suddenly serious.

"I have," Severus answered cautiously, "and I still have reservations about using such a plan, perhaps even more than before."

"I trust he didn't turn you down?"

"Oh don't be absurd! Of course he agreed, eagerly. The chance to turn over Potter to the man he's idealized his entire life? A chance to bargain for the Dark Lord to break Lucius out of Azkaban? It's Draco's dream come true. I'm half surprised that he didn't run and shout out the entire plan to Potter himself out of sheer excitement."

"Do you doubt his ability to follow your directions explicitly?"

"No more than your certainty in it," Severus commented dryly. "Draco learned well from Lucius, he believes himself to be far smarter and more powerful than anyone else simply because he bears the name Malfoy. He will refuse to share credit for his 'victory' and will lack the patience we need to ensure that we have the timing right. He's too volatile and headstrong to properly control. This is a mistake Albus."

Albus nodded. "Which is why the plan truly rests on anticipating _Draco's_ timing, not relying on ours."

"It's a ridiculous risk for no reward Albus!"

"I've already explained the benefits-"

"Yes, you get to make sure that my place is better secured with the Dark Lord, you get to make sure that Draco thinks twice before he actually takes the Mark that was promised him after he completes his mission, and you get to set up Yaxley and Macnair for botching the plan they supposedly came up with. And what if things go wrong. A trap like this... there is every chance Potter gets captured or else is killed or else they realize who truly tipped off the Order and I'm dead. The risks are too much."

"You are only taking into account the protection that we can offer Harry, you are forgetting that Harry himself is an impressive wizard. One I daresay Draco Malfoy will live to regret openly challenging on day."

Severus gritted his teeth, "Potter is 16. Can he overpower Draco? Probably. I'll even grant you that Potter is more than likely the top OWL scorer in Defense that Hogwarts has seen in 30 years and I even include myself at that age, but even you must realize that that is hardly saying anything impressive. He is no match against seasoned Death Eaters, I believe the events in June proved that, wouldn't you agree?"

"Do not make the regrettable mistake of only seeing Harry's faults, he is a person that is often underestimated."

"Except by you, who evidently expects a mediocre wizard that can't even top the ranking in his school class to save the world. I don't believe it's my expectations that are warped Albus, nor am I the one making a regrettable mistake."

The rest of the day had taken longer than he had anticipated but at least it had been successful. Severus had spoken to his contacts in Knockturn Alley as well as a few places around the country that dealt in obtaining items the Ministry would more than frown upon. He had learned a lot that day, the bad news was that the Dark Lord was looking for several rare objects, far more than Severus would have thought and it was as yet unclear what his intentions were for these artifacts. With no clue as to what the man's ultimate goal was, there was little to no chance of them stopping him from getting to each item. The only good news was that it appeared that at the moment the Dark Lord was also having difficulty obtaining them.

He knocked on the door and it was answered by a smirking Sylvia, Severus thought that she looked rather amused. "What has you looking so upbeat? I've never known you to be so… cheerful in the past."

"Cheerful is for people under 50 Severus, I'm…intrigued and that beats the usual boredom."

"Intrigued about what?"

"Your boy. He's an interesting one, I'll say that, and it's not something I say often, actually."

"Interesting?" Severus asked, his temper already rising. He couldn't understand for the life of him how Potter made everything single thing in his life more complicated than necessary. The only thing the boy was supposed to do was chores. Severus had expected to find that he hadn't finished them, or that he had done them poorly, or he had even half expected Potter to have frustratingly completed the whole list out of pure spite (he had given the boy enough detentions to know how Potter had a strange brand of defiant-obedience when it came to finishing tasks that he felt unfair or unpleasant) - but no, instead Potter had gone and made sure that he was _'interesting_.'

"How you do mean? The boy couldn't have possibly gotten himself into trouble in a single day?"

"I think you underestimate the creativity of teenage boys, Severus. Most boys can spot trouble in under an hour, but before you work yourself into a state, that's not what I meant, Jimmy didn't cause me a lick of trouble. No, I meant that he's the first one in a long time that I haven't got a good read on. You know that if there's one thing I pride myself on its knowing people inside and out in under a day but Jimmy is a… strange boy." It was true, for what Sylvia Littlefold lacked in magical power, she more than made up for in intuitiveness and perception of others. She had spent her entire adult life either working with troubled muggle children overcome their issues or else teaching squibs how to adjust to the muggle world. She was a person with a wealth of experience when it came to the hardships of life and had seemingly run across every conceivable problem that a child could endure. She was not one to coddle or shield them from the unfairness of life but Severus knew that her charges found in her a rare confidant. They were open to her and learned to seek out her advice and depend her stoic reliability. She provided a constant for those with lives that felt entirely unmoored.

Years later she would be visited by former orphans, foster children and abuse cases that saw her as the one stable adult figure that they had ever known in their lives, a role they had all conspicuously lacked until they had met her. Severus knew that more than one had credited her with saving their very lives. For her to admit that anyone surprised her was a rather unique turn of events.

"Strange?" Severus asked, wondering if the boy had had the audacity to do anything magical. He couldn't see Potter taking the risk after the trial he had undergone the previous summer for underage magic but he had learned long ago never to put anything past Harry Potter.

"Well for one thing he never had to ask me a single question about how to do any of the chores, even though they were done with muggle instruments, although that isn't the strangest thing. Some families start to realize that something's off and start teaching them to adapt before I meet with them. The fact that he did all the chores the right way shows me that he's certainly done them before."

Severus was a bit surprised that Potter seemed so adept at cleaning but then he had grown up with his muggle relatives and he knew enough to know that even they had assigned him chores now and again. He had witnessed memories of it during their Occlumency lessons. Petunia had always had an obsessive streak and from the glimpses he had seen in Potter's memories that had translated in life to order within her household. "Did he give you a hard time about doing the entire list?" Severus asked.

Sylvia shook her head, her expression thoughtful, "I didn't hear a single word about it and I can't tell you the last time that's happened. It makes me wonder… Severus I don't know how long he's been staying with you and you didn't give me any details about the conditions under which he left his parents' home but there were bruises on his arms. And before you ask, of course I know what kind of bruises to look for. I've done this a very long time and someone grabbed that boy and grabbed him hard."

If Severus hadn't spent a lifetime learning to conceal his emotions, he would have flushed with embarrassment. He hadn't meant to actually bruise Potter and he certainly didn't want to admit to the old squib that it had been he had done so, even accidentally- Sylvia took no excuses when it came to violence against underage children. The fact that Potter was now 16 and nearly as tall as Severus meant nothing to her and if Severus was being truthful he had to admit that it meant little to him either. Potter was still a child- he had made that very point just that morning- and in Severus' care, he was entitled to safety.

Sylvia was watching him closely as she continued speaking, "I asked him about it and he brushed it off, they usually do you know," she added, "but…this was different. He wasn't embarrassed or ashamed and he wasn't angry or aggressive. His story was very good. He knew they were hand-shaped so he didn't give me any nonsense about being clumsy or running into something. He told me that when he had left home it was an emotional time for his family and his father had wanted to give him some last minute advice, and that he gripped his arm to make a point and hadn't realized how tightly he was holding on. Said that he has tendency to bruise easily. It was a better story than any I've heard in a long time and I might actually believe him, but I wanted to know your thoughts on the matter. You know the family better than me."

Severus blinked in surprise. He had known for years that Potter was a sneaky, devious little liar but he had never seem him work a web of intricacy like this before. The fact that Sylvia even considered believing him was a credit in and of itself, the woman rarely believed anything one of her charges told her when she first met them. Severus had often found it a strange dichotomy that the woman that got so many young people to trust her so implicitly, so quickly, never trusted them at first.

However, it was not for nothing that Severus Snape was the most skilled double agent on either side of the war effort. It was nearly second nature for him to adapt to any necessary story. "That sounds like the boy's father. I've never known them to be violent and it would have surprised me if he had been. Disappointed or possibly ashamed of his son for being a squib, but not violent."

"Jimmy made it sound as though his parents were very supportive," Sylvia said a bit casually. "I asked him a bit about it over lunch, I like to get a sense if someone has said something to them that can stew within a person, you know what I mean? We always think that the worst a parent can do to a child is beat them or harm them, but I've been alive long enough to know that the worst damage comes from the words that they can't get out of their heads. Those are wounds that don't heal for a very long time."

Severus was more than aware of that, both from personal experience and from watching Draco for so many years. Draco's parents loved him and wanted the very best for him but Lucius had a way of placing inordinate expectations and when he was disappointed that Draco had not risen to the occasion, he had a way of verbally eviscerating the boy that was almost an art form. Tobias Snape had been a cold-hearted bastard that had caused more than enough emotional scars on his child but at least Severus had always been free to hate the man, he often wondered if he had felt forced to love him as much as Draco loved his father if the man could have caused even more damage.

"And what did he say?"

Slyvia shook her head and looked rather bemused. "He was a bit thoughtful, I don't think he told me what he was really thinking, or at least not all of it but he said that if someone actually cares about you they care about the person you are and the choices you make rather than the skills that you have. If I were to guess I would say he was rather offended that I would think his parents might have thought poorly of him."

"I fail to see how all this is so strange. Or have you worked with so many troubled runaways over the years that to find someone even remotely well-adjusted is a shock for you?" Severus asked, feeling a bit impatient about discussing the boy for so long.

"I can't quite put my finger on it," Sylvia admitted, not without difficulty. She was not a woman that liked to be caught without answers. "I think it's the fact that he really should have been able to finish the chore list, but he didn't."

"No one finishes your list Sylvia."

The madam shook her head, "this wasn't a boy that was troubled or confused by the tasks, he knew what to do and before you say anything it wasn't simply laziness, if there is one thing I am certain about is that that boy is Hufflepuff through and through- never stopped working for a minute. But he seemed so tired. Is he ill Severus? He hasn't complained of anything and he certainly appeared to be fine this morning but as the day worn on…"

Severus frowned a bit at that remark. He didn't think that the boy was ill but of course there was no way to know for certain. He also knew that the boy's connection with the Dark Lord caused him occasional pain and wondered if the connection had flared once again, possibly affecting him physically. If Potter was still seeing into the mind of the Dark Lord something would have to be done, and quickly. They had seen first-hand the damage that could be created through the connection and he had no faith in Potter's ability to learn from the situation. The fact that the Matron assumed the boy to be a Hufflepuff was rather entertaining however.

"He's a bit of contradiction," Sylvia continued. "He was friendly and open when a few of the younger boys from the home when they stopped by, he seemed to get along with Catherine when she came in. Made her laugh a bit which is a bit of a challenge these days," Sylvia added sneaking a glance at Severus that he pretended not to notice. He knew that she was disappointed in the fact that he didn't seem to feel the need to broach a closer relationship with the girl, especially in light of her difficulties but Severus did not see a point in forcing a relationship that was not meant to be. He had no personal connection beyond the fact that he frequented the apothecary more than the average person and she was a former student.

"However, with the exception of answering questions, he did not seem to want to get to know me at all."

"Ahh, and it all becomes clear. Your delicate sensibilities are hurt that you have found the one teenager in all of Britain that did not instantly fall into your motherly embrace? How touching."

Sylvia glared at his callousness. "I've met stubborn before. I've met cold before. Jimmy Evans is far from the first child that's walked in the door and decided to keep his business to himself, I meant that it's a contradiction of character to be open to some and not to others. Though the issue could simply be that I'm an adult, I have enough instinct to think that there might be more to it." Sylvia shrugged and smirked, "for the first time in quite a while, I'm looking forward to figuring someone out. JIMMY!" she called into the house. The matron's house was a good-sized cabin with her apothecary shop attached at the front by a long corridor. Potter would not have been permitted into the shop on his first day- Sylvia was particular about the kind of help she allowed behind her counters and in front of her customers, but there was plenty to do both inside and outside of the cabin.

Potter trudged out from the back workroom and Severus blinked in surprised at the exhaustion that seemed to physically drag him down. His shoulders were slightly slumped and there were bags under his eyes.

"Yes ma'am? Oh…" he said as he noted that Severus had come back and he shuffled uncomfortably. There was something different about his stance, something that Severus was unused to seeing from him but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. Perhaps it was the fact that for an instant Potter had reminded him ever so fleetingly of Longbottom, Merlin help them all. "Er…I still have a couple of things left on the list. Do you need me to finish them before I leave?"

"Does it seem like I want to wait around while you take ages to complete simple muggle chores?" Severus snapped.

Potter glared at him, "I don't know why you always call them 'simple muggle chores', they're a lot harder to get done by hand than just cleaning with magic. Anyone can do that." And just like that- defiant, obstinate Potter was back with a vengeance.

Sylvia's brow raised at that one, clearly taken aback that the boy would defend his position while most squibs would feel shame, at least initially, at not being able to perform spells. Perhaps as a way to break the tension, perhaps just to expedite their departure Sylvia reached into her pocket and took out a few pieces of muggle paper currency and held them out to her temporary employee. "The chores will keep, you should be on your way. There you are dear."

"What's this?" Potter asked blankly.

"Oh, right I had thought you were familiar with them since you seemed so well versed in muggle chores, it's muggle currency. They're called pounds, and every shop in the village takes them."

Potter shook his head, "I know what pounds are, why are you giving them to me?"

Sylvia raised her brow for the second time in almost as many minutes at the daft boy, "I might be a bit of slave driver as an employer but I don't expect the people who work for me to be actual slaves. You did good work, especially for your first day."

Potter looked at her in surprise and Severus found himself feeling taken aback that Potter had so easily assumed that he wouldn't receive any compensation for his work. It was true that he had made it sound as though he would be working for the Matron under his orders rather than as an employee but he had still expected Potter to demand some sort of recompense for his time and energy.

"I…I didn't realize you were actually going to pay me. I sort of assumed that Professor Snape had set up a deal with you for having me stay with him. Thank you."

"This is what I consider fair for a day's work, don't get overly excited 40 pounds is hardly considered a generous wage."

"I didn't even finish all of the chores on the list," he argued pulling out of a five pound note from the stack and moving to hand it back to her, "I don't really deserve the full wage."

This time Sylvia fully froze and Severus almost did as well. Foolish heroism and pointless chivalry he expected from a Gryffindor but humility and actual sacrifice was not something he would have expected at all.

"Don't be ridiculous dear. Truth be told you got a lot further than most of my first time workers. The first day is a bit of a test, see how they do. The money is yours and well earned."

Potter's eyes narrowed slightly at the idea that an employer would dare to test their employees, no doubt he felt it unfair to do it without their knowledge. However, he said nothing but a muttered "thank you." Just as Draco walked into the room with Catherine.

"Hey Severus."

"Draco, I hope you had a productive day sorting ingredients?"

Working with raw potions ingredients was excellent training and he hoped that Draco had used his time wisely. Draco was not a natural potions brewer and without dedicated study (yet another thing that could hardly be considered a strength) he would never survive in NEWT potions- assuming the boy had managed to scrape an O even with the extra help he had received. It was going to be close.

"It was a thrill of a lifetime. Did you finish whatever you were doing?"

"For the time being," Severus answered vaguely. "Catherine, I hope you're well."

"Thanks, I've been doing really well. Jimmy I have that book I was telling you about. See what you think of it."

"Thanks, I'll get it back to you soon," Potter answered accepting the book, a muggle one entitled _'The Handmaid's Tale'_. Severus had never read it and was surprised that Potter seemed to have an interest, or perhaps he was pretending to in order to suit his story as a squib. Either way Severus found himself slightly impressed that Potter would make the effort.

"And I'll be sure to get you tickets to that play for your birthday," Draco added, casting a sideways glance in Potter's direction. Evidently the boy had not forgotten the date on the calendar, nor its significance. Harry Potter's birthday had practically been considered a national holiday in the first years following the Dark Lord's first fall, and if there was one thing the Malfoy's were known for it was keeping tabs on their enemies.

"Oh Draco that is so generous!" Catherine said fondly. "Though my birthday isn't for another couple of weeks."

"When is it?" Potter asked with a sense of obligation to the question.

"August 11th."

"Really? I have a friend that's the same day. She a bit younger though."

"Jimmy Evans don't you know better than to imply that a lady is old?" Catherine teased.

"I prefer to think of it as experienced," Potter retorted with a wink.

Catherine shook her head, "Jimmy Evans, I didn't peg you for a flirt," she said with a laugh. Snape gritted his teeth, Potter had looked more like his late father than ever before in that moment. Catherine turned to her employer, "Slyvie, can you believe it? Draco has a connection to Davis Cravis and can get tickets in Diagon Alley? Isn't that amazing? Best present anyone's ever gotten me."

"I haven't even given it to you yet!" Draco responded shaking his head at her enthusiasm. Despite the dig at Potter for bringing up another's birthday, the blond boy seemed genuinely touched that his gesture meant so much to her. Catherine waved at hand at him, "Details. Besides the anticipation is the best part, don't you agree Jimmy? Looking forward to something is even better than when it gets there, don't you think?"

Potter looked rather taken aback by having this question lobbed at him. "Er…some people's anticipation are other people's anxiety. I think I prefer the actual experience." He had a frown on his face and was obviously thinking of past experiences that appeared to be unpleasant.

Catherine also frowned at this answer for a minute before she shrugged. "Well I always tell myself, every birthday will be better than my 14th birthday," she shuddered in a bit in playfulness but Severus knew that the day had actually been horribly traumatic. Her first symptoms had manifested around that time and in the days surrounding her fourteenth birthday she had been in and out of St. Mungo's many times. "What's your worst birthday Draco?"

For once Draco had the good sense to realize that he could not compare his life with another. Draco was well aware of what had made that summer such a trying time for Catherine and while the Malfoy heir would have normally more than likely complained about a present that he didn't receive or a time in which his father had been unnecessarily detained and had been unable to be present in his younger years, he knew better than to say any of these now. "None have been that bad," he glowered at Potter and years of hatred, jealousy and petty rivalry were in that hard-edged look. "In retrospect I could say my 16th since that will be the last one I had with my father still a free man, or maybe I should just assume it will be my 17th- since that's when he'll be in prison."

Potter said nothing but there was defiance in his eyes, a certainty that justice was being done. People like Potter always saw things in black and white. Lucius was a Death Eater and should be punished, never mind the effects it might have on the family. "What about you, Jimmy?" Draco asked, his tone slightly mocking.

"Easy. That would be my 12th."

Severus blinked at the lie, for surely this was Potter's worst birthday (not a single person had acknowledged it and he'd spent the day performing endless chores), and the seamlessness with which it was delivered. Potter even had a frown of distaste on his face, as though in remembrance before shrugging it off. "But it doesn't matter, does it? My eleventh was the best and I prefer thinking about that anyway."

Catherine cocked her head slightly, "I like that attitude. I try that myself but I can't say that I always succeed. Being grateful for the good times instead of worrying about the bad ones, I mean."

Potter shrugged, he appeared uncomfortable. "I haven't always been successful either, I'm considering it a…New Years' Resolution of sorts, I suppose."

"A Summer Resolution," Catherine clarified smiling at the idea.

"We should be going," Severus said, before anyone dared bring up his own birthdays. He had hated every year that he had gotten older and Lily had not. He had not celebrated the day at all since the dissolution of their friendship, she being the only person that had ever acknowledged it in the past, and had no desire to resume the festivities at any time in the future.

They made their way back to the Prince Estate, a little over a mile away. It was a nice walk if one were inclined to appreciate scenery. He noticed that Potter truly was exhausted from the tasks of the day. He was dragging his feet and his head was bowed slightly against his hunched shoulders and Severus found himself thinking over Sylvia's concerns. Potter was lazy, defiant and rude but he had always been in fairly good shape. Skinny and small for his age, he had nevertheless competed on the school Quidditch team from the age of eleven and kept up with kids at least twice his size and at times triple his weight. The day should not have tired him the way that it had and he wondered vaguely if the boy was in fact ill. He remembered with a pang that only a few days previously he had denied the boy a proper meal and realized that such behavior could not continue. He was a strong believer in the need for strict discipline and had no qualms over issuing punishment, but he would not turn into his father. Starving and beating his son for anything the man remotely disapproved of.

As they walked in the door, Severus instructed both boys to go up and change for dinner only realizing after he said it how absurd a request it really was. Draco had done no taxing work, nor had he done anything to soil his clothes and would have been fine to eat in what he was wearing and Potter hardly had anything better than the rags he was currently wearing. Neither made any protest however, Draco no doubt eager to change back into proper Wizarding robes, and Severus continued into the dining room alone.

At least he would have a few precious moments of silence. The room was currently empty, it would be until he was ready for the meal, with the exception of the morning paper which the elves had no doubt left knowing that he had not had time to peruse it in his accustomed manner that morning. He picked it up, looking to scan the headlines before the boys returned when he spotted the headline that Potter had been reading earlier that morning. **Chosen One- Boy Who Was Abused?**

All of the sudden Potter's expression and his quiet demeanor at the time made more sense. Severus frowned as he quickly read through what the article had to say.

 _The story of Harry Potter is known to us all. How the small innocent baby was able to survive what no full grown wizard had before and managed to temporarily destroy the most evil wizard in recent memory. However, little has been said about the circumstances of Potter's childhood. Many of us will recall the shock and surprise we all felt when he had learned that Harry Potter, our savoir and hero, would be going to live with muggles._

 _We were told it would help a young child that was bound to be overwhelmed by his own fame. We were told that he would be raised by a family that cared for him. We were told that it was all in Harry Potter's best interest to keep the location a secret so that he could not be targeted by vengeful Death Eaters. All of this seemed reasonable at the time and yet recent evidence has come to light casting doubt on these decisions. Or at the very least calling into question why the Ministry has never taken an active role in seeing to the safety and well-being of its most famous and prestigious prodigy._

 _Days ago the residence of Harry Potter's muggle relations was burned to the ground. The circumstances of the event have been kept secret for security reasons but one must not rule out (or perhaps even assume) foul-play. Harry Potter, along with Albus Dumbledore, has stubbornly maintained in the past that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had returned despite constant and malicious criticism. Besides the well-known grudge that the Dark Lord must have against the boy that had once defeated him, his outspokenness on the topic has undoubtedly made him a target._

 _Potter and his muggle relations- Mr. and Mrs. Vernon and Fortuna Dursley along with their son Dwight- were brought to St. Mungo's and it is here that questions of the fitness of his muggle uncle have come under scrutiny. Potter's aunt, the muggle sister of the boy's mother Lily Potter, was injured and is still receiving treatment as muggles usually have a slower response to magical medicine. Witnesses reported seeing Vernon Dursley, a large, overweight man with reported anger issues, push his smaller, younger nephew up against a wall; blaming him for endangering his aunt. Witnesses continued their account by saying that Dursley verbally berated his nephew, claiming the boy had been a burden and drain on his family since the day 'he had been dropped on his doorstep like a bottle of milk'. Accounts claim that Potter expressed little surprise that his uncle would blame him for a fire that was either accidental or an outright attack._

 _Medi-witches expressed concern over the violent reaction Dursley had with his nephew, and experts have commented that Potter's lack of reaction reveal that such violence would be considered common-place. When the altercation was interrupted Potter declined to say that anything was wrong but questions have been raised and talk of a formal investigation have been rumored to be proposed at the office of Wizarding Child Protective Services at the Ministry. As an orphan of the magical world the WCPS should have had an active role in ensuring that Harry Potter was well-cared for with all of his needs seen to but our investigation has revealed several troubling facts. Interviews with Potter's current classmates paint a disturbing picture._

" _Potter hasn't made it a secret that he doesn't like the muggles that he lives with but he never seems to have a problem with muggles or muggle-borns in general so I don't really know why he doesn't like them," Ernie_ _Macmillan_ _, son of prominent Wizengamot member said._

" _Potter is always dressed in these like muggle rags and has never known about real Wizarding culture, I think his relatives don't even like magic," Pansy Parkinson, daughter of the successful business owner Mitchell Parkinson._

 _Potter himself was unavailable for comment but the evidence is troubling and it is well-known that child abuse victims are often the least likely to speak out against their abusers. Harry Potter has been the hero to us all, but it is time for the Wizarding World to consider whether or not our savior is in need of saving._

Severus lowered the paper with a distinct feeling of unease. He knew very well that the _Daily Prophet_ was hardly known for its accuracy. They were more interested in selling what people wanted to see or toeing the Ministry line than telling the truth. For Merlin's sake they had even gotten Petunia's name wrong- _Fortuna_ Dursley? And he could not be sure but he did not think Potter's cousin's name was Dwight. Pansy Parkinson would say anything to discredit Potter that she could and Macmillan was a pompous little moron that cared far more for his own prestige than about whether Potter was in need of protection against his uncle.

However, he also knew that stories like this usually had at least some basis in fact. As the muggles said, where there was smoke there was fire, and although this might be no more than a small flame, the fact that there was any kind of heat at all was concerning. Order members had been expressing concern for Potter's relatives since they had reconvened the Order a little of a year ago, but Severus had always disregarded everything that they had said as needless pandering to a spoiled Potter. But he had seen Potter that morning and though his expression had been hard to read as far as determining the truth of the article, it had been more than clear that boy did not appreciate that kind of attention. Dumbledore had been the one in charge of ensuring Potter's safety, to learn that a man that Severus had always considered above reproach could have abandoned any child to an abusive household made Severus feel as if his world had tilted onto its axis.

He looked up to see that Potter had returned, and he was holding out the money that Sylvia had given him. "This is what I got today from Madame Littlefold's."

"So it is. Why are you showing it to me?"

Potter frowned, weighing his words before deciding to speak, "You don't want me here, that's alright, I don't really want to be here. I thought it would easier if I didn't owe you anything."

Severus was actually rather impressed with the boy's idea, it represented a sense of character that he wouldn't have imagined the boy could possess.

"I have little need for trifling muggle amounts, and the cost of you staying here is negligible. However, as I had no intention of buying you a new wardrobe or other necessities and I would imagine the idea of me providing them for you is distasteful for you as well, I suggest you use that and any future wages that you earn to buy yourself some decent clothes or whatever else you require. I trust you have money from your parents' vault for your school supplies?" he asked, already knowing that the Potters had left their remaining heir with more than enough money.

Potter blinked at the response, "Er…yes sir. Or rather I will have enough after I visit the bank and take out some more money."

Severus nodded, "very well than I would imagine that your wages will be more than sufficient to buy yourself some decent muggle clothes, I'd rather you not run around in…whatever it is you call your current attire."

Potter lowered his outstretched hand slowly and eyed his professor warily before finally nodding his assent. "Thank you."

"I don't think much gratitude is necessary for me to allow you to keep the money that you earn for yourself. Don't expect me to supplement your income and don't embarrass me at your place of employment. You not only represent yourself, but myself as well. However, I trust that you will be able to see yourself to work when it is required. As I said, this village is perhaps the safest place possible for you at the moment but that does not protect you from your own common stupidity."

"In that case I wouldn't dream of disappointing you, sir," Potter answered cheekily, his expression one of familiar defiance and pride. Yet for some reason for the first time in almost 6 years, Severus was beginning to see a different side of Harry Potter and he was wondering if there was more to him than met the eye.

 **A/N: Thanks for reading! Thanks to those that favorited/followed, I hope you're enjoying it :)**


	9. Fast Times at Crescent Nest

**Chapter Nine: Fast Times at Crescent Nest**

The next week went by quickly and Harry had developed a routine that he had begun to find surprisingly enjoyable. On his second day at Madame Littlefold's they had arranged for him to work for her four days a week, starting at 9 and ending about 4. In an effort to keep up with his attempts to exercise he would get up at 6:30 and do his sit-ups, crunches and (using a bar in the small closet he had found) pull ups before showering and dressing. Breakfast was, of course, at 7:30 which left him with more than enough time to get to work. He had discovered it was a little over a mile to the shop and most mornings he would jog, he avoiding full-out running so that he wouldn't arrive sweaty or out of breath but if he had the energy at the end of the day he would try and run back to Snape's house. He had learned at the Department Mysteries that speed could save your life and if there was one advantage that he could have over the more experienced Death Eaters, it was that they not the most physically fit of fighters. Years in Azkaban or else spent relying solely on magic had made many of them lazy and Harry was determined to use his advantages where he could. Add to that the fact that he always slept better when his body was truly exhausted and it encouraged him to push himself to his limits.

The visions were still coming, not nightly but with a frequency that Harry found a bit disconcerting. He wasn't sure what troubled him more- the regularity of Voldemort' torture sessions with muggles and traitors, or the fact that the strength of their connection seemed to be growing. His theory from Privet Drive seemed to be holding up fairly well at the moment, when he concentrated on the people that he cared about or his compassion for other people the connection would break, but he usually slipped into the vision before he knew what was happening and once there it was hard to think of anything else but the horrific scenes before his eyes. He felt more passenger than pilot of his thoughts and when he finally woke- sweaty, shaking and nauseated- it was with a distinct feeling of unease at being so out of control.

Control. That was what Harry really wanted. So much of his life had been taken out of his hands. The Dursleys had never granted him a modicum of respect, much less control over his life or decisions and ever since he had entered into the Wizarding World he had learned over and over again that people had been lying to him. Lying about how his parents' died, lying about the existence of his godfather and how he had supposedly contributed to their deaths, lying about the prophesy and how it pertained to him. Harry suspected his need for control over his own life and the stubbornness that had allowed him to survive 10 years of misery his relatives and 5 years of dangerous situations at Hogwarts was the reason he was able to throw off the Imperius Curse. It was all he truly had to rely on. To know that he was not even control of his own thoughts and possibly one day his actions was terrifying. On the nights that left Harry thrashing in agony in his bed and a prisoner of his mind, he missed Sirius all the more because he was the one adult that he felt he could have gone to. If there was one conversation he regretted not having with his godfather most of all, it was talking to him about the attack on Arthur Weasley last Christmas. At the time Harry had felt so ashamed and...violated by the snake in his mind that he could not bear the thought of revealing the true horror of his feelings to the man. But the brief talk that they had had the morning after the attack had helped steady him and he only wished that he had swallowed his fear at the time and found out what Sirius had to say about the whole thing. They were words that he would never hear now and Harry regretted waiting and assuming that he would have more time.

He knew that the visions were dangerous, Sirius' death had taught him that. But the past year had also taught him that Dumbledore and the other members of the Order were just as likely to make mistakes. If he were staying with any other Order member he would have gone to them and told them about the developments with his connection to Voldemort, but he did not and could not trust Severus Snape. He was too unsure of the man's motives. There were far too many past hurts and questions for Harry to follow the rest of the Order's lead and trust the man on Dumbledore's word alone. In the end the thing that Harry kept coming back to was the fact that he had not been the one to start this 'feud' between himself and the professor. He had walked into a potions' classroom as a naïve and yet excited eleven year old, eager to learn and perhaps even more eager to please those around him and yet the man had never given him the chance. He had hated him from the beginning and Harry was not ashamed to realize that he had simply followed the man's example. After all…as the student it was his job to learn from his professors and Snape had been more than instructive.

It was for these reasons that Harry kept to suffering in silence. Perhaps when school started he would talk to Ron and Hermione and hear what they had to say. Hermione, of course, would try and insist that he talk to Dumbledore but other than reporting the pain and horror of it all, there wasn't a lot that the Headmaster could do about any of it. This wasn't like the attack on Mr. Weasley where a warning could help. He was seeing a place controlled and owned by Voldemort himself- if the Order had a chance of getting in there, they already would have. The only reason to tell anyone would be for Harry's own piece of mind but for time being he was going to have worry about that himself. It certainly wouldn't be the first time.

Which was why the job that Snape had gotten him with Madame Littlefold had turned into a blessing. He knew the man had used it a means of torturing him for the summer. Making him work while Malfoy was free to do as he pleased but Harry had lived under Dursley reign for far too long for this to truly bother him. He was used to be the 'burden' that did all of the work. Snape was a good 8 years too late if thought that picking favorites was going to surprise or upset him.

The best thing about discovering that he was able to leave the dark mansion was that he had been largely able to keep completely out of the company of the other two occupants of the house. Draco had started to take a Defense class at the Ministry, a course that Harry would have liked to take but it was considered too dangerous for him to come and go from a place as crowded as the Ministry each day. He hoped that both Ron and Hermione were able to go and learn some interesting techniques and that they would show him when they got back to Hogwarts. He had taught them things in the D.A. and he knew that they would return the favor for him. Malfoy returned smug and cocky with his new knowledge, taunting Harry that he had been able to practice magic but deliberately secretive about what had been taught. Malfoy claimed that he had been sworn to secrecy by the Instructor but Harry knew that the blond delighted in holding his newfound knowledge over his rival. The class ran for 4 hours every weekday and Harry was impressed at the time that was finally being devoted to teaching students to defend themselves. Of course a summer tutorial wouldn't have been necessary if they had had a decent teacher for the past years but there was no point in holding onto past disappointments.

Snape, in true Dursley-like fashion, had largely left Harry to his own devices. He was able to see himself to and from work and then was able to go to his room to study. Harry had the idea that the professor was certain that Harry was wasting his time and refusing to open a book but Harry was using his time wisely. He found himself feeling oddly threatened by the fact that so many of his peers were being professionally trained in Defense while he was left to a muggle job. There had been very few times in his life when Harry would have called himself the best at something but Quidditch and Defense were two things that Harry had learned to take pride in, and his own desire to remain the best surprised himself. Ambition of that sort he usually left to Hermione. He should have been happy that his classmates were learning to defend themselves and he was, but he could not entirely crush the feeling of jealousy that they were allowed to go and he was not.

Petty jealousy over his grades was not Harry's only concern though. It bothered him that he was the only person not allowed to attend the courses but the one that needed the training the most- he was, after all, the one that was expected to defeat Voldemort. He was the one that had proven himself in the past. As guilty as he felt about dragging his friends to the Department of Mysteries last June, it had not escaped Harry's notice that he had been the only teen to escape unscathed. No broken bones, no lasting curses. Voldemort had possessed him but that was a different kind of magic altogether. The Order's refusal to help him hone his skills in any real way was frustrating and, though Harry was reluctant to admit, frightening.

Combing through Sirius' defense books had taught him a great deal and he was looking forward to the moment when he would finally be able to practice what he had learned. On the bright side, between his day job and independent study Harry was almost too busy to worry about the fact that he was living with Snape and still had to eat meals with the man.

His job was dull but not particularly challenging. After that first day, the tasks he was given were much more manageable. He was still unsure how he felt about his boss. The local town people seemed to love her and from the stories he had heard, she seemed to know everyone, and that didn't just include the townspeople. She had worked with children for years and she kept in contact with a lot of them. She was constantly receiving owl post or else actual post mail from past kids and teens that she had mentored in some manner, all of them seemingly grateful for her guidance and support.

Despite the high endorsement from so many different strangers, Harry couldn't help feeling uneasy around her. She seemed inordinately interested in getting to know Harry and too many experiences with Defense teachers that had attempted to kill or hurt him in some way had left him wary of getting to know strangers that seemed to have a motive. He couldn't see why she was interested in the anonymous Jimmy Evans and resented her constant questions and attempts to draw him into some type of closer, mentor-like relationship. The fact that she also was the first and only person that seemed to have a cordial, perhaps even friendly, relationship with Snape was only another strike against her in Harry's mind. Therefore despite repeated attempts on her part to get to know him during his lunch hour or when the two of them were working in tight proximity of one another, Harry remained quiet and at times nearly monosyllabic with his answers. He expected her to be frustrated or perhaps even angry with his increasing rudeness to her but for some reason this only seemed to intrigue her more.

He liked the tasks that she gave him outside most of all. As a potion maker the shop required a lot of firewood but Sylvia was a squib and although he remembered Catherine as an older Hufflepuff that had since graduated from Hogwarts and was obviously a witch, he had never seen her do magic. He didn't know the details, and was not about to ask, but he could only guess that she had either had her wand snapped for some reason like Hagrid or else had simply renounced magic. The latter seemed so strange that Harry tended to favor the first option. Regardless, there was no one to cut the wood magically which made it one of his duties to chop the firewood each day. Another was to see to the herbs and plants in the garden- there were both muggle and magical ones, but nothing particularly exotic.

The tasks inside mostly consisted of cleaning, something that Harry didn't mind even if it was boring and rather monotonous but the real reason that he preferred being outside, aside from the sun and fresh air which was always welcome, was the fact that there was something about the little back room of the shop that seemed to make him tired. He wasn't sure what it was or why it happened. His best guess was perhaps a reaction to some potion that was in there, but no one else seemed to feel the effects and he had never experienced such a thing before. He had thought about asking the Madame about the feeling of lethargy and exhaustion that would creep up on him after he had been inside for too long but had decided that it might be better not to complain to his new boss. Madame Littlefold was still an unknown entity to Harry and long experience had taught him to tread carefully among those that exerted power.

Don't show weakness, don't ask for help, don't expect special favors.

These lessons had been drilled him to since birth at the Dursleys and had been reinforced at Hogwarts by Umbridge, Snape and even, to an extent, Dumbledore. Wasn't that what the man had essentially told him when asked why he had had to go the Dursleys? It was for the best, so the only thing that Harry could do was _make_ the best of it. Rather than risk drawing unnecessary problems by complaining he had learned after the third day to ask what was expected of him for the whole day and then attempted to trade off tasks so that he wasn't inside for extended periods.

In the midst of his busy week he had discovered that he enjoyed Catherine's company. Though they had been at Hogwarts at the same time, the older girl had been in a different house and Harry would probably have not remembered her at all if not for the fact that he could remember her being friends with Cedric Diggory- one of the many girls that would trail after the good looking Sixth Year, the fact that Catherine had been in Seventh at the time had made no difference. Her and many of her friends had enthusiastically worn the pins that Malfoy had made proclaiming Diggory the real Champion and claiming that 'Potter stinks' on the other. When he had first seen her in the shop he had nearly groaned at having to work alongside her but it helped that she did not know who he was and after a few days it no longer bothered him that she had supported her housemate instead of him. Most Hufflepuffs had done the same and Harry had long since decided not to blame them.

As he got to know her, he discovered that Catherine was funny and told excellent stories. She was brilliant at potions as well but had a way of explaining things that didn't make Harry feel inferior or stupid. While Littlefold seemed to demand a kind of closeness and camaraderie from the people around her, Catherine invited it. Harry was not foolish enough to trust her completely but there was an easier exchange between the two of them than Harry had with anyone else at the moment.

Harry had found that he also enjoyed exploring the town. As long as he was back at Snape's place by the time dinner was served at 6:30, he was allowed to go about as he pleased. It was the most freedom he had had since the summer he had runaway to Diagon Alley and Harry loved every second of it. He had been stifled inside of Grimmauld Place and Privet Drive had felt like a prison. As upset as he still was at Dumbledore for making him stay with a person that Harry not only hated but felt unable to trust, he was forced to reluctantly admit it was turning out to be one of the better summers he had had ever had. Though that of course was a low bar of comparison. He only wished that he had Ron and Hermione there with him for the times that he felt so lonely he could burst, but he still found plenty to occupy his time and his time.

The town itself was incredibly strange in Harry's opinion. Hermione had once told him that Hogsmeade was the only completely wizarding settlement in Britain but he had never before seen the two worlds work in such close conjunction before. The Weasleys lived in an isolated spot but were within walking distance of a muggle village, still the family rarely spent any time there and if anyone was a testament to how baffling muggle culture could be to some wizards it was Mr. Weasley, who was both impressed and confused by muggle inventions.

In Crescent Nest there were magical shops but all of them sold muggle products in the front, placing their magical items in a separate room under muggle-repellant charms. The muggles didn't even know that the store had a separate room but the wizards were perfectly comfortable in the muggle part. After his third day on the job- now a comfortable 120 pounds in his pocket, Harry found a second hand shop and decided to finally buy himself some new clothes. He started with the thrift store first, determined not to waste money just because he had some. He wasn't sure if Snape would change is mind and suddenly demand more compensation for allowing him to stay and he didn't want to be caught without any money. Another part of him worried that there could still be an attack of some kind on the village, after all, Voldemort had gotten around the wards at Privet Drive and those were supposed to have been impenetrable. If he had to make a run for it he knew it would be better if he could have some cash on hand.

He bought himself some new trainers, and though they were technically used they were in the best condition that Harry had ever had. He bought himself a few pairs of jeans, quite a few tee shirts and a light jacket as well. He bought socks and underwear at a regular shop. Although most teenage boys hated the task of shopping for clothes, Harry had found it rather enjoyable. He had never had the opportunity to pick out exactly what he liked and the fact that he was able to pay for it all with money that he had earned brought him a distinct feeling of satisfaction.

On his fourth day, however, he decided to at least look at one of the nicer shops that had some stylish hooded sweatshirts and jumpers as well as nicer button down shirts and trousers that Harry would be able to wear on the weekends at Hogwarts instead of staying in school robes. It was not unusual for students to just remain in their school uniform on the weekends, especially the boys who cared little about being fashionable but for Harry it had always been more necessity than choice that had led him to his limited wardrobe. He was still resisting buying anything for the moment, reminding himself that Snape could easily either take back the money or else forbid him from leaving the house, leaving him with no money in the future. It would be smarter, he knew, to wait until the end of the summer, which would make the sizing a bit easier since Harry had been growing at a faster rate than ever before. He wasn't sure if it was the fact that he had finally reached a prolonged enough period of time of consistent meals, the regular exercise or just a normal response to adolescence but Harry had shot up several inches and despite the steep vertical climb had still managed to fill out rather decently.

"Window shopping?" a teasing voice with an exotic accent asked him and Harry blinked up at the question. The girl who had spoken was smiling at him and Harry's first thought was that she was gorgeous. Long, wavy dark hair cascaded over her shoulders and around her golden hoop earrings. Her clothes hugged her curves in all of the right places, her white tank-top showing off her darker tanned skin.

"Er... sorry?" Harry asked, his mouth a little dry at having been addressed by the girl... woman. She appeared to be about 18 or so and he couldn't for the life of him think as to why she would want to address someone obviously younger and very clearly not as attractive.

"I was watching you look around, but you don't pick anything up. Just came to admire the clothes? Or... are you looking for a gift and don't know what to get?"

Harry blushed a bit at having drawn attention with his apparently strange shopping behavior. "Er... actually I was trying to talk myself out by buying something."

The girl smirked, her eyes light and teasing as she asked, "are trying to tell me you're a recovering shop-aholic?"

Harry gave a snort of laughter, feeling better now that the conversation was moving and the girl proved to have a sense of humor. "Clearly." He answered, gesturing to outfit of second-hand clothes he was wearing. They were his new ones so they at least fit well and were good condition but they far from trendy. "Actually, I go away to boarding school and I need to get some clothes before I go back but I was thinking it would be smarter if I just waited until it was closer till September."

The girl lifted her brow slightly and gave him a look filled with innuendo, Harry's heart beat a bit faster at the realization that she was flirting with him and he had always been rather hopeless at returning such attention. "English Boarding School boy? Are the...rumors true?"

Harry titled his head to the side pretending for a moment that he didn't understand what she meant. "Sometimes... but mostly just rumors."

She laughed, "for you?"

"Oh when it comes to me, you would be surprised at the rumors you hear," he couldn't help saying.

She smirked at him, her lip curving to the right as her body angled closer to his, reaching past him until she was pulling a collared shirt off the rack, "In that case, maybe get a second opinion?" she offered.

Harry made a show of looking at her own outfit instead of the offered shirt as if to evaluate it, "well I can see that you have good taste," he commented.

She smiled and tossed her hair back over her shoulder as she stepped forward, "I'm Elena... you can Lanie if you like. You brits seem to appreciate that."

"I like Elena actually. Where are you from?"

Elena seemed to like his response, "Spain. My parents got divorced years ago and I lived with my mother but after I finished school my father got sick and I came here to help take care of him. Aside from the rain and cold, I like England."

"I've never been to Spain myself but I can't blame you for wanting to get away from English weather," Harry agreed. The two of them set off and though Harry only wound up with one shirt and a severe telling off from Snape after he almost failed to arrive on time for dinner, he counted a highly successful afternoon.

By the end of the week he had fully explored the small town he met quite a few people. He was careful to introduce himself as Jim Evans, preferring the shorter name to the rather immature sounding 'Jimmy', it was in vain though, almost everyone immediately called him Jimmy anyway.

From what Harry had managed to gleam from the few people that he had met, there were about 8-10 wizarding families in Crescent Nest in a town of a couple thousand. Due to close contact, the wizards that resided there were more comfortable than most around muggle clothes and inventions and though the townspeople undoubtedly noticed some strange customs of some of their neighbors, most had chalked it up to a strange but rather exclusive religion that they were part of and seemed to excuse the behavior more out of politeness than lack of curiosity. Elena was the only person to really find a genuine odd to all as she had not grown up in the town she had expressed frustration that no one else seemed to notice that there 'seriously odd people' living in Crescent Nest. He had also discovered that the Wizarding families were among the wealthiest and most prestigious in town- a fact that pleased Malfoy to no end.

Sometimes Harry had the odd feeling that Malfoy had somehow convinced himself that the story about Harry being a squib was actually true and had found countless opportunities to lord his 'superior' status over Harry. The Malfoy name had lost a lot of its former luster and power with the arrest of his father and though Narcissa's illness was being kept discreet at the moment, Draco was either worried that others knew the truth or felt insecure enough about her breakdown that he felt the need to compensate by showing Harry how much better he still was in comparison. He delighted in describing how wonderful the Defense lessons were at the Ministry over dinner. Though Harry found it telling that the other boy gave no real details as to what they had learned. He claimed that this was due to the information being 'classified', but Harry suspected it was because they had not gotten into anything particularly impressive. Harry had never lost to Draco in a duel or a fight and though he didn't like the fact that the other boy was now being exposed to professional training, he was still not overly worried that a few weeks of study would transform the Slytherin into an unbeatable opponent.

On Friday Harry was outside chopping some more firewood for Sylvia when a group of boys approached. Harry knew enough by this point to know that the potion's shop was next door to an orphanage that catered to both muggle and magical families and a few of the younger boys had been by before but this was the first time Harry had met any of the teens.

"Alright there? You the new boy working for Sylvie?" the tallest of the boys asked. He was blond and solidly built with a harsh expression at first glance. He had the kind of look that had nice upstanding citizens like those Harry had grown up with on Privet Drive crossing the street to avoid. Though Harry knew enough not to judge on appearance alone, he also knew enough to be wary with his response.

"That's right, I'm Jim. Jim Evans," he offered his hand to the other boy, striving for politeness but he was watching all five boys closely, waiting to see if they had come over out of curiosity or for something more sinister. Harry had a lifetime of experience with Dudley and his gang to not be suspicious. Each of the boys shook his hand, each eying him up and down with the air of appraisal.

"So, what's your story?" the tall boy asked, eyeing Harry as though measuring him.

"What's yours?" Harry challenged, squaring his shoulders just a bit.

There was a brief look of surprise followed by a slow grin and Harry had the distinct impression that he had impressed the other boy by standing his ground, from the look of him he wasn't the type to often be questioned by his peers.

"We're from next door, St. Michaels. I'm Charlie, and this Mark and Greg," he said nodding respectively at the two boys behind him. "Sylvie's always got a new bloke working for her and they usually have a story, so we came to see if yours was interesting."

Harry grinned at much at the bluntness of the statement as at the fact that the boys in front of him could only imagine how interesting his story really was. "I wouldn't say interesting. You lot heard of Severus Snape? Owns the Prince Estate up on the hill?"

"Yeah? Rich guy? Never really around but mean as hell when he is?" Mark asked sounding rather impressed.

Harry laughed at his description, "'Mean as hell' pretty much covers it, yeah. Anyway, my parents were busy for the summer and needed me to stay with him and I suppose him and Madame Littlefold are friends and he got me the job."

"Madame Littlefold? I've never heard anyone that actually works for Sylvie call her all proper like that!" Charlie crowed with delight.

Harry shrugged, after the first day the Madame had in fact invited him to call her by her first name but he had declined. She had insisted that all of 'her children' called her either Sylvia or Sylvie but Harry had the feeling that 'Sylvie' had a way of using an informal name to forge that 'tighter bond' that she seemed so concerned about and he was not about to drawn in to someone that he didn't know until he was sure how he felt about it.

"She's my boss, not my friend," Harry answered simply.

"You have a problem with Sylvie?" Charlie, slightly more aggressively.

"I don't really know her," Harry answered calmly. "I've worked here less than week. You make friends with every person you meet?" he asked in the same manner. Harry wasn't sure why he felt the need to so aggressive in front of the boys but it had seemed to him that they had come to test his meddle and instinct told he should make sure to pass the test.

Mark and Greg looked to their leader to see how this type of challenge would be answered but Charlie was looking at Harry with an unreadable expression. "You're better than the last couple of people that worked here. Stuck up snobs mostly. Listen we play football right across the street in the open lot. Lunch hour. You should come."

"Er…I don't think I'm supposed to leave," Harry answered glancing back at the door. Just in time for his boss to come out herself.

"Hello boys, you here causing trouble with my workers again?"

"They start trouble with us, Sylvie. But this one's alright," Charlie answered with cheeky grin. "I told you that you should stop hiring those posh arseholes."

"That's enough now. Not everyone that's different than you is an arsehole."

"Notice you didn't say they weren't posh," Mark muttered.

Harry had to grin at that one. He had found, based on Sylvie's rather low expectations of what kind of work he would be able to complete, that a lot of the squibs that came to her for help had come from wealthy families that had never taught their children how to clean or even look after things the 'muggle' way. It didn't surprise him to learn that the local boys would have found them stuck-up.

"Sylvie, you know about our league right? We're short a power-forward but if you give us Jimmy to practice during lunch hour we can actually win this year," Greg said, smiling sweetly at the older woman.

"Jimmy? You want to go and play football with these boys?" she asked skeptically.

Harry weighed his answer. He had never really had muggle friends before and he wondered if Snape would somehow cause him grief for finding a way to enjoy himself. Then again, it wasn't as though that would be anything new from Snape.

"I'm not that great a player…" he hedged. And it was true. He hadn't played football since primary and even then he had only been able to play in gym class when it was required that the other students allow him into the game, even then he was always picked last and no one ever passed to him.

"We just need a player…" Greg started.

"Neither are we…" Mark answered honestly only to be hit in the chest by an angry Charlie. Harry grinned at him and mouthed 'cheers'.

"Its alright with me," Sylvie said, looking at Harry with her own measured look. "I like to encourage young people to get out, exercise and make friends so it's not a problem. If you have to, you can always stay a little later to finish up the chores but you work faster than most people anyway."

"Thank you Madame Littlefold," Harry said sincerely.

Harry's first practice had gone reasonably well if a person had no athletic goals to meet. He was fast. His reflexes were good. And he was terrible. But he had had fun with the other lads and for the first time in quite a bit of time Harry had felt like a normal teenage boy. Laughing, running and swearing up and down the field. The boys on the team ranged from age 15 to 18 so Harry fit right in and it was with some relief that he got to hear about problems with curfews, girls and getting enough stolen alcohol into the boy's dorm at the Home instead of Dark Wizards, death and prophecies.

Thought it had been fun, the run had been tiring which made the prospect of an afternoon of chores less than desirable. Still he knew it had been more than decent of Littlefold to give him the time to play so he was not about to complain. Draco had come back from a morning at the Ministry and he was brimming with confidence. He still was not specific about what they had learned but he had eagerly told Catherine (when she was in Harry's hearing) about the impressive shield charms that they had covered in the class. Supposedly nearly impenetrable if done properly.

"Brilliant Draco. Listen, can both you boys help me move these vials into the shop? They're very delicate and it would take forever for me to come back and forth a million times." Harry knew that delicate potions couldn't be moved with magic but he still wondered at the strangeness of the former Hufflepuff never using magic.

"No problem," Harry answered, putting down the rag that he had been using to clean out a different cupboard, sighing slightly as he stood. On top of the tiring football practice he had now had been inside in the 'energy stealing' room for almost an hour. His eyelids felt very heavy. His limbs ached as though he were an old man. The end of the day could not come fast enough.

Draco did not come as eagerly but surprisingly didn't complain either. Harry followed the two of them down the long hallway that led to the potions' shop. He had never seen the shop before and was slightly curious about how it was set up, after all most apothecaries were not for both wizards and muggles. Draco went in first and waited for Catherine to show him where the supplies went, Harry followed last but each step closer to the shop became more and more difficult, exhaustion clinging to him unnaturally. He took a final step into the shop when it happened. His entire body seized up. His chest constricted and breath left him. He vaguely heard a woman's scream and a slightly deeper voice shouting before everything went black.

Harry felt as if his body was very heavy. His chest felt as though a large weight was sitting on top of it and as he moved to raise his arm it felt as though it took unnatural strength. He wanted to sleep but there was pain building in his chest. A deep but anxious voice spoke, "Potter, can you breathe?"

The only response Harry could give was strangled whimper. He was just coherent enough to feel vaguely embarrassed by the noise but the greater concern was the crushing weight on top of him. "Drink this."

He turned his head away out of instinct. There was something about that voice. _Don't trust it_ every instinct screamed at him and Harry always trusted his instincts. "Potter! Don't be foolish, drink this right now." It was a command, one not to be disobeyed.

With more effort than Harry would ever willingly admit to, he opened his eyes. Snape was bearing down on him with a potion's vial, his expression intense- angry and perhaps even frightened. "Drink this right now!"

Harry obeyed. The tension eased but not much. There was a beat of silence as Harry took a few breaths to steady himself. "Are you in pain?"

"I'm alright," Harry rasped. His heavy arm going to his chest as though he could pump air in forcefully.

Snape snarled at him. "I am not asking for a demonstration of Gryffindor bravery, I am asking for necessary medical knowledge. I did not ask if you could manage the pain, I asked if you were **in** pain. And now I am asking how much."

"I can breathe, but it hurts. Bad," Harry admitted, avoiding Snape's eyes.

"On a scale of one to ten- one being you were bitten by Mandrake plant in its early stages and ten being… bitten by a basilisk, how does it feel?"

Harry raised his eyebrow, his voice was still rough but it was easier to speak now that he could actually breathe, "actually being bitten by a basilisk doesn't hurt as much as you think, the poison kind of numbs you. Doesn't feel that bad… of course you're dying so that might not be the best."

"Answer the question, Potter."

"I would say 6," he answered with grimace. "Falling from a broomstick from about 50 feet up. Minus the dementors."

"Do you find it at all absurd that you have such a scale to measure by?" Snape muttered angrily as he waved his wand over Harry in a few complicated patterns.

"You call it absurd, I call it an eventful life," Harry muttered, tired and feeling lighted-headed.

Harry heard a snort of laughter behind Snape and tilted his head to see that both Catherine and Sylvie were there. The older woman came in, her expression more severe than Harry had ever seen it. "Hello Jimmy Evans. Something you would like to tell me?" she was staring daggers not at Harry but at Snape.

"It was a complicated situation. I thought that this was the best solution."

"You cannot tell me that I have a squib in my shop and instead bring in a powerful wizard! What in the world were you thinking Severus, you know how dangerous that shop is to a fully-qualified wizard! It's why all wizards have to buy my stock in Diagon Alley!"

Harry looked at her in surprise. He had heard of muggle repelling charms but he had never heard of a way of keeping out- or apparently even harming- wizards from coming into a place. Snape on the other hand was defensive. "He is not a fully qualified wizard! He's 16. There shouldn't have been this type of reaction, Mr. Malfoy is a testament to that."

"Draco Malfoy is an example of an average wizard, Severus."

"Hey." And Harry noticed that Draco was also present, his face even paler than usual but at the moment his expression was affronted.

She was not flustered by her comments at all, she answered him briskly. "Average isn't an insult lovely, it's a fact of life for a good 70 percent of us or so. I suggest you make your peace with it now," she turned back to Snape as though she hadn't been interrupted at all, her tone laden with disapproval. "You know that. You bring me the next Albus Dumbledore in terms of power and you're honestly surprised that he his body would have this kind of reaction? You're lucky he wasn't killed!"

Harry blinked, "Next…hang on," he swallowed thickly, "what are you talking about?" he rasped, pulling himself upright with what felt like true herculean strength. Sylvia frowned, her eyes staring at his arms which had been shaking from the strain of moving his thin frame. He was still weak and ill from whatever it was the shop's enchantments had done to him.

"Jim Evans? Is that even a real name?"

"It A name," Harry answered looking at Snape and wondering why he was essentially asking his permission to reveal his identity. He had never cared much about the professor's opinion before but this had been Snape's plan and he didn't want to be the one to go off-book first.

"What you find out here does not leave this room Sylvia," Snape said sharply, his gaze also on Catherine.

"I would _never_ -" she started, clearly offended by the implication but Snape interrupted her.

"This is important. Your safety, _his_ safety and if you believe nonsense papers the safety of our world is at stake, do you understand?"

Catherine and Sylvia both nodded, their expression serious. Snape nodded at Harry as he raised his wand, "I'm Harry Potter." The transfigurations were undone and suddenly Harry was Harry again.

"Oh my god," Catherine whispered.

"You…idiot! You bring Harry Potter into my wizard- protected shop and didn't realize that he would be affected? Severus!"

For the first time the professor actually looked at bit abashed. "I…apologize. Potter is an under-aged wizard who, quite frankly, has never shown particularly specular skill-"

"Skill and power are not the same thing!" Sylvia shouted and Harry realized that it was the first time that he had ever seen the woman properly upset. Usually she only reached a kind of frustrated exasperation when people upset her but her face was colored and her mouth had set into a firm line as she glared at the Potion's Master. "In fact I've heard many times that the powerful ones often take a bit of time to come into themselves. You know that. Control of that nature is not an easy thing to grasp. I find it hard to believe that you've been a teacher at the school he's attended all this time and never knew him to be so powerful. You're generally much more observant than that, Severus."

Draco was still scowling at being referred to as merely 'average' and was eyeing Harry with a combination of jealousy and suspicion, as though somehow Harry had faked this reaction to make himself appear powerful.

For Harry's part he wasn't quite as surprised as he thought he would have been a couple of years ago to hear that he was considered powerful for his age. Of course he felt that comparing him to Dumbledore, even a young one, was going a bit far, but he did think he might be a bit more powerful than a lot of his classmates. What Madame Littlefold had said about there being a difference between skill and power actually made a lot of sense to him. _Hermione_ was the most skilled student in their year. She was almost always first to master a spell and she had the biggest repertoire of them of anyone in the school. But Harry knew that he wasn't being conceited when he had started to notice that once he finally caught onto a spell, his were generally a bit more powerful. In the DA his ' _stupefy_ ' curses always lasted the longest, his disarming curses shattered through almost all of their shields, and when he had gotten nervous during the exams back in Third Year and overdone his Cheering Charm, Ron had had to be taken to a 'quiet room' for over an hour in order to calm down. He had been marked down for lack of control and yet at the same the time, Flitwick had seemed vaguely impressed.

"Your shop is designed to hurt witches and wizards who enter it?" Harry asked, falling back on what he considered to the salient point in all of this. He had never felt anything quite like the suffocating hold that the shop had induced on him. It was not the most painful thing he had ever experienced and yet it was something that he would never want to experience again. While the pain from Voldemort's possession had made want to die, this had felt like he truly was dying. It had been such a strange feeling. Generally when he had been hurt or cursed, his magic and own strength had pushed back to help him, this had felt as though he had been fighting himself.

Harry was surprised to see that it was Snape that answered him, as the man was almost as adapt at avoiding answering his questions as his Aunt Petunia, and when he spoke his voice was neutral, almost calm, instead of sharp and caustic. If Harry didn't know better he would think that the man actually felt guilty, he was never one for explaining things or communicating in anything other than constant insults and sarcasm. "I think I told you on your first day of working for Madame Littlefold that the shop is considered a safe space for squibs. I mentioned that it would have been dangerous for a fully-qualified wizard to enter. The shop itself has a very unique protection around it- it uses a person's magic against themselves. The mechanics of what is actually happening is rather complicated but the symptoms present as a constricting of their airways…" he paused. "Did you ever feel strange working in the backroom?" he asked casually enough but Harry could see the man had put something together that he had not in the past.

Harry nodded, "yeah, I always felt really tired. I couldn't even finish all my chores the first day, even though I should have had plenty of time."

Snape raised an eyebrow at that pronouncement and Harry suddenly remembered that the Madame had told him that almost no one ever finished those chores on the first day and no doubt Snape thought he was making up excuses for his own laziness.

"You've worked here a solid week!" Sylvie shouted out in alarm, "why is that you never said anything?"

"Well…you're my boss," Harry shrugged feeling embarrassed. "I thought that you would just assume that I was complaining to get out of work or something. Besides as long as I knew what needed to get done, I would just change up the tasks so I could outside after an hour or so. It wasn't too bad."

"I might be your boss but I was also responsible for your well-being! I have never heard of such a… bull-headed mistake. Of all the ridiculous notions!" she ranted.

Harry snuck a glance at Snape, who he had known to put people in double detentions for daring to claim that they didn't feel well enough to attend the first one they had been assigned. The man wore his usual stone face but he cleared his throat as he said,

"Potter…I owe you an apology. I should have considered that despite being underage, at age 16 you are not terribly far from coming into your full power. I should have also taken into account that you have performed a few rather…unusual pieces of magic and therefore may have had a different reaction than most. It was not my intention to place you in a dangerous situation." It was never clearer that Severus Snape was not a man accustomed to making apologies. He was stiff and formal and it was clear that he hated every second of having to admit that he was in the wrong. It also did not escape Harry's notice that Snape had given care in his words not to admit that Harry was in fact powerful, just more so than his classmates.

Harry nodded, dropping his gaze so that he could avoid the man's stare. "It's alright," he said at last, because really there was little else that he could say at the moment. He still had to stay with the potion's master for nearly another month and there was no sense in making things even more uncomfortable. Harry was not naïve enough to think that the man's remorse would be something that would make his stay more tolerable but perhaps if he were gracious enough to just accept the apology then some of the terrible tension that existed during every meal could dissipate just a little. It made it difficult to eat.

Snape said nothing but his eyes seemed to narrow a bit at Harry's easy statement, as though he was suspicious as to why Harry was not trying to hang this over his head. Perhaps if this had happened during the school year Harry could afford to be less forgiving of the man for disregarding everything that he had seen Harry do over the past five years simply because he refused to see any good in Harry at all- but not as a guest in the man's house. Harry was under no delusions as to his real situation in Crescent Nest- Snape held all of the power.

"So all of this time... you've been Harry Potter..." Catherine finally said, looking at him curiously before finally biting her lip and averting her eyes. Harry thought that he had a fair idea of what was on her mind.

"I think we met once actually," Harry said instead. "You were there when Cedric told me how to get into the prefect's bathroom," added quietly, thinking back to how stubborn he had been about following the older boy's advice, all because of his jealousy over Cho.

"Diggory let you in the prefect's bathroom as a Fourth Year?" Malfoy asked clear surprise in his voice. He glanced at Snape as though the professor was going to give him detention after the fact. Snape's eyebrow had arched and Harry knew that unlike the younger Slytherin, the older one had already made the connection to the Second Task.

Harry said nothing to the blond. Talking about Cedric in general was something that he tried to avoid at all costs but talking about Cedric and the fact that the two of them had gotten through the Tournament together was something he wouldn't tell Draco Malfoy under threat of the Cruciatus Curse.

"I... I'm sorry about the way we treated you. The Puffs I mean. We were all right nasty to you and you didn't deserve it. For the record, Cedric, he-"

Harry nodded, "I know. Thanks. It's fine really. You all supported your House." Harry left unsaid that he had wished that all of the Gryffindors had supported him as enthusiastically. While there had been many in House of the reckless and brave that had found Harry's participation in a deadly Tournament absolutely wonderful, the others –like Ron- had been horribly jealous. Particularly after the Skeeter article.

"Can I... well I don't mean to pry but since we're telling secrets how is that you can work in the shop? Isn't it killing you?"

The other four occupants of the room alternately scowled or winced at Harry's words. "Actually, the shop is what's keeping me alive," Catherine confessed. She took a deep breath but she was calm when she spoke. "I have a Wizarding Disease. It's rare but my magic drains too much of energy and essentially drains away my life force."

Harry's eyes widened, he had always associated magic with something that inherently protected you at all costs. While the magical _world_ could be dangerous, Harry had never for a second doubted that his own magic had been the reason he had survived for as long as he had.

Catherine grimaced and nodded as though she heard Harry's thoughts out loud and he knew that she must have gotten the same response from a lot of people. "But the shop somehow... counteracts it. It's strange, you wouldn't think that two different things that normally would kill a witch would somehow end up cancelling themselves out but..." she shrugged and mustered a smile. "Obviously I can't do magic but as long as I work here enough hours each day, I should be able to live a pretty long life. At least by muggle standards anyway," she added.

She was looking at him, waiting for his response and as she looked at him with eyes that were daring him to tell her that he was 'sorry' for her, Harry knew what he had wanted to hear from someone all summer whenever he allowed his thoughts to travel to the prophesy. He let out a breath of air before declaring, "that really sucks."

Snape glared at him, eyes furious for his seemingly careless words but Catherine let out a startled laugh. "Yeah it does. Thank you for being the first person to just say that from the start. Everyone else always says how sorry they are or asks me if hurts it or something."

Harry nodded, a lot of his friends had acted similarly at the end of last term after Sirius had died. Hermione had kept insisting that he should talk to them about how he felt. Ron had kept saying that 'Sirius wouldn't want you to be upset', as though by making him feel guilty for being depressed was helpful. Everyone else had just told him everything would be alright and that he would feel better soon. But the only things that had actually made him feel better had been the breakdown he had had in Dumbledore's office when he finally allowed the rage that had consumed him for so long to get out and talking to Luna and investing himself in something other than his own problems. People always thought that they needed to provide comfort but something you just needed to give understanding and a place to vent.

Harry saw that Snape's expression had gone from outraged to once more unreadable but he caught the fact the Potion's Master eyes shot over to him quite a few times for the rest of the evening as though questioning how Harry's words had been taken so well by the ill girl. Harry wasn't sure what to make of the man's scrutiny of him but he was relieved when he was able to make his way slowly back to Snape's Manor and to his room for some much needed privacy. He was less happy about the fact that he needed Snape's assistance to make this happen. He was still weak and shaky on his feet and though he avoided having the man carry the entire way he did need a steadying arm more once and with no small degree of embarrassment that he led Snape back to his small bedroom.

He noticed the man paused at one of the larger bedrooms near the front of the corridor and his suspicions that the blond Slytherin had deliberately placed him the servant's quarters were confirmed. However, Snape said nothing as Harry continued and when he opened the door to his thankfully tidy guestroom, Snape made no move to correct the misunderstanding. Harry was unsurprised, while Snape might not have been quite so petty as to deliberately give him the smallest bedroom, he was certainly vindictive enough not to correct the mistake and be seen seemingly going out of his way to do something nice for him. Once settled into his room, Harry laid down on what was still quite a comfortable bed and sighed. Littlefold had insisted that he take the day off the next day and Harry had not bothered protesting. Whatever the shop had done to him had left him exhausted, he could only hope that he was too exhausted to dream.

 **A/N: Thanks everyone.**


	10. Green-Eyed Devil

**Chapter 10: Green-Eyed Devil**

 **Draco**

"Sit down and don't move until I come back," Severus snarled roughly as he finally released the hold that he had had on Potter's upper arm and practically flung him onto the sofa. Potter, for his part, said nothing, his balance unstable as he fell onto his side from the momentum, but his all too familiar glare was in place as stared at the professor's retreating back.

He sat up slowly, his movements less smooth than usual and Draco smirked as he thought about the punishment that Potter was in for. Drunk. Fighting. With muggles and wizards alike for that matter. It had been a decidedly interesting night and Draco, in spite of his delight at his anticipation of seeing Potter thoroughly punished, found himself surprised that events had played out the way that they had. He had antagonized Potter enough over the years to know that it took quite a lot for the Gryffindor to come to actual blows with someone. Seeing the rage behind those vivid green eyes as he had laid out his first punch, Draco had been simultaneously entertained and intrigued by the sight.

"You've done it now Potter," Draco couldn't resist saying.

"Shut it Malfoy," Potter grunted, his lip cracking and fresh blood spilling. Potter winced as he brought a hand up to stop the blood from sliding onto Snape's upholstery but made no other sign of pain.

"Too bad the _Daily Prophet_ can't see you now. Mad Potter strikes again!" Draco smirked, truly delighted with the sight of a miserable and soon-to-be thoroughly thrashed Harry Potter.

Potter had ruined his life. His father was imprisoned because of him. His mother... The family name had been dragged through the mud for weeks because of Potter and Draco had sworn his revenge. He knew that his real vengeance would be satisfied as long as he waited a bit longer. Snape's plan was good. Very good. Potter would never see it coming and not only would the Malfoys finally have their revenge but he personally would be able to curry instant favor with the Dark Lord. He had wanted to take the Mark at the beginning of summer but the great Lord had insisted that Draco prove himself first. And prove himself he would. He and Severus would bring the Dark Lord his enemy on a silver platter and then the future that Draco had envisioned for himself would finally come to pass.

"Of all the imbecilic things to do!" Severus roared from the adjoining room as he rummaged through cupboards, banging doors and apparently breaking glass. "One would think that given the last time you started swinging your fists and got yourself banned from Quidditch for a lifetime you would have at least learned a modicum of self-control, but it appears that you make Crabbe and Goyle look like Alchemy scholars!"

Draco's grin widened in the memory of Potter and the Weasley twin being hauled off of the field and punished for the fight. He had not expected that even the vindictive Umbridge would think to give such a fitting punishment for muggle fighting but he had been delighted when he had found out that he had come out on top of the confrontation. Potter had been humiliated and forced away from his favorite sport, and Draco had gotten the grim satisfaction of knowing that he had been at least partially the cause.

He remembered being rather shocked and even a little afraid of the strength with which the two boys had attacked him. He had never been in a muggle fight before and the only other time he had ever been struck with an actual fist had been in Third Year by Granger. The hit at the time had taken him by surprise but had not been particularly strong. He remembered the nearly hysterical force that Potter had struck him with. George Weasley had been bigger and physically stronger, his arm used to the weight of swinging the Beater's bat, but it had been Potter that had known how to fight dirty and hit where it hurt. Draco had barely made it the hospital wing in a conscious state (though he honestly wished at that point that he hadn't been) and he knew that if had not been for magical healing he would have been sore for days. It almost made him feel sorry for the muggle boys that Potter had ravaged tonight. Almost- they were muggles after all.

"Potter never could control that vicious temper of his," Draco sang out tauntingly. "No wonder everyone always thinks you're mad."

"They got exactly what they deserved," Potter stated with brutal finality. There was a coldness to his voice that gave Draco an involuntary shiver down his spine. There was power in those words and the memory of Potter seizing up in Sylvia Littlefold's shop shot through his mind, his own powerful magic turning on him in a way that Draco would never experience, not even when he was of age and fully qualified. "And if you think for one second Malfoy that I regret hitting you for insulting my mother, you've got another thing coming. My mother died facing Voldemort, she was more brave than someone like you could ever be, if you insult her again I'll do more than just punch you a few times."

Draco suspected that the liquor had loosened his tongue a bit. Though defiant to a point of idiocy, Potter usually demonstrated at least a sane level of self-control around their professor.

Snape stalked back into the room, his eyes glowering a dark black. There was pure rage in his expression and for a moment his gaze landed on Draco and the Slytherin couldn't help but gulp back a feeling of fear. He knew that the rage was at Potter, he had done nothing other than taunt the memory of a dead mudblood, but for a second it felt as if the anger was directed at his very soul.

"Mix the herbs," he demanded, shoving some dried leaves at him with a mortar and pestle. Draco nearly jumped at the tone and was once more grateful that he could never inspire the amount of pure loathing that Potter did in their professor. Snape stalked out of the room again, probably to get the potions that would be needed after the poultice was applied to the bruising. Draco was actually rather surprised that Snape was bothering to heal Potter at all, he would have thought that the man would make him stew in his own injuries as punishment.

Draco had to admit that in spite of Potter's dangerous and reckless temper, he was surprised that the Golden Boy of Gryffindor had been involved in such a vicious brawl. He thought back to two days previously when it had appeared as though Potter had been made king of the village and wondered if the whole thing might have actually been unavoidable.

Draco tended to avoid spending any more time than absolutely necessary in the village as it was entirely too muggle for his tastes. The clothing, the need to use autos to go anywhere, the strange beeping boxes that the teens all wore on their belts and would glance at before asking to use a 'phone'- all of it only made him think about the fact that he was forced to stay here rather than his Manor. It reminded him that his father, a man that had always commanded wealth, power and respect from every important wizard in their world, was now stuck in a tiny, miserable cell surrounded by Dementors. The man that Draco had looked up to and admired his whole life, the man that he had depended on to be there for him before anyone else, was missing and all anyone could do was celebrate the Ministry and Harry-Bloody-Potter for catching him. His mother... Draco shuddered whenever he thought about his mother.

Narcissa Malfoy had always had a certain grace to her. She moved with elegance and had an aura of self-possession that Draco had always rather secretly admired. While it had been his father that had taught Draco how to manipulate the will of people and the laws of the government, it had been his mother that had tried to teach him how to do it with a smile on your face. How to get people to give you everything that you wanted without them even realizing that they had been manipulated. They were not lessons that he had excelled at. Draco had always enjoyed the feeling of people _knowing_ that he was in charge. Both his mother and father had tried to instill the importance of working from the shadows. Being the power behind a Minister, but not holding the position yourself, gave you freedom. Freedom from responsibility to others, freedom from criticism in possible failures.

He had always considered his mother a strong and inflexible woman. A Pureblood that bent the world to her will, not the other way around and so Draco had been utterly unprepared for his mother to break under the pressure so quickly. Draco knew that there were some that believed that his parents had only gotten together because of the status it gave both of them, but he had always known that his parents had truly loved one another. Though neither one of them had ever been openly affectionate people; Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy cared for one another deeply. They had met in their teen years, Lucius a couple of years older and already starting to establish himself both with the Ministry and with the Dark Lord. The two of them had shared a like-mindedness about family and about the war. The Blacks had whole-heartedly approved of their daughter's match.

Andromeda had chosen to go off with a muggleborn instead of finding herself a proper wizard. She had been disowned as a Black and the family had rightfully shunned her. Draco had only heard his mother speak of her once, when they had first been discussing the Pureblood lines, and she had used her as an example of bringing shame on the family.

Bellatrix had done better with Roldophus Lestrange, but there had always been something too dark and unhinged about the man that had caused neither Cyngus or Druella Black to feel entirely comfortable around him. Lucius, in contrast, was a talented young man that had the temperament and wealth for a proper son-in-law and Narcissa was pleased to have found a man that could not only garner the hard sought after approval that she had longed for as the youngest, but also a man that fulfilled all of her own desires in a partner. They had enjoyed a marriage that suited the both of them immensely, built on a cornerstone of trust and loyalty in one another before all else and later to their son.

When Lucius had been arrested, Draco had known that Narcissa had been devastated, but she had seemingly managed to pull herself together and work on a strategy for how to save public face for herself and her son. While some might have taken it as disloyalty, Lucius would have known it was survival. That was the trait that the Malfoys valued above all else. The ability to first survive and then thrive in any situation. They had sided with the Dark Lord in the First War because they had known that the Ministry and Dumbledore's little pawns had no chance at defeating a wizard that was so powerful and so cunning. In the First War the Dark Lord had commanded hundreds of followers and sympathizers. He had further controlled thousands of Dark Creatures that had served him eagerly. Any intelligent wizard should have seen the writing on the wall from the start, the only way to win the war was to serve the Dark Lord. He was a man of vision but more importantly he was a man that would remember the purebloods that had been loyal from the beginning and be willing to reward them, and (perhaps more importantly) he would remember those that had attempted to rebel and would punish them.

When the Dark Lord had seemingly been defeated it had been all too easy to rely on the Malfoy wealth and influence to convince the Wizengamot that no respectable member of society would have degraded himself and his family's honor to commit such unspeakable acts. Lucius had pled the Imperious Curse and if possible the Malfoy's had only risen in status and power. Draco could remember more than one discussion around the family table in which his parents had impressed upon the importance of timing, patience and connections. Survive, then thrive- it was the Malfoy way.

And then the Dark Lord returned.

And what might have been a disaster had only seemed to add more opportunities. The Ministry had dug their heads into the sand while Dumbledore had only gathered together a weak grouping of ostracized wizards that had no influence or power. The Death Eaters had rejoiced in the fact that the fabled Order of the Phoenix had been reduced to a werewolf, a so-called convict that not only could not show his face in public but had provided an excellent scapegoat for any and all plans of the Dark Lord, and a collection of Weasleys and other low level employees that held no power in the Ministry. Potter had been thoroughly discredited in the press as a crackpot and more to that point, he was only a boy. Potter had never learned about the intricacies of their world, nor had he ever received proper instruction in politics or media affairs the way a true Pureblood with a proper family would have been taught from an early age. Dumbledore had dumped the boy with a bunch of ignorant muggles and left him unprepared to deal with price of fame once it had turned to infamy. If Draco didn't know better he would have sworn that Dumbledore was every much Potter's enemy as the Dark Lord was, setting him up for failure in a world that should have been his oyster.

Not that the Gryffindor would live long enough to worry much over his destroyed reputation. Potter had managed to get lucky a few times but in the end everyone knew that he was no match for the greatest wizard in the past century. The Dark Lord was going to destroy the Ministry and then Hogwarts, it was only a matter of time and Draco had yearned to be a part of it. To share in the victory not as a mere bystander but as a celebrated Death Eater that had been integral to the plans.

Narcissa had known all of this but she had still panicked when Draco had announced his plans of avenging his father's imprisonment and taking his place as a Death Eater. It had started out as the worst argument mother and son had ever had. The argument had shaken the windows and sent the remaining house-elf running for the kitchen. Draco had never before stood his ground so firmly- but neither had his mother. He had taken a stoic kind of pride in refusing to stay in the shadows and allow the 'adults' to handle things. With his father gone, he was the man of the house, the rightful Heir to the Malfoy name and he been adamant that he would be taking full control of his proper role.

At first when his mother had stopped arguing, Draco had just thought that he had worn her down. But then slowly he had seen that the strong, impervious woman that had raised him was suddenly vulnerable and confused. She would blink up at him in the morning, trying to focus on a point in time that suited the man that she was looking at. Many times she thought that he was a younger version of his father. Other times a younger version of himself. Draco had not known what to do, he had never seen someone that had not known how distinguish reality from their own muddled thoughts, but he had done what he had always done when confronted with unknown situations, rely on what he had been raised to know. Discretion. Survival. He had made sure that he had cancelled his mother's social engagements, pleading family business or travel. He had carefully guided her through Black's will reading so that no one had been able to see that she had been ill. He had been certain that if he was patient enough, if he gave her some time and allowed her to gather herself together, she would be fine.

But things had only deteriorated further. When idle confusion had finally dissolved into full scale panic attacks that led to her screaming curses and hexes at anyone in the room, he had known that this was not something he could fix himself. He had called Severus, a man that had never let his family down in the past, and the Head of Slytherin had moved quickly to not only get Narcissa the help that she needed but to do it as discreetly as possible. Moving her to a private clinic rather than St. Mungo's where the entire Wizarding World would laugh at the fall from grace the Malfoy's had been forced to endure.

"Drink this!" Snape snapped, earning another glare from Potter and snapping Draco back into the present.

"What is it?" Potter asked, always one to be difficult, he questioned everything that Snape did. While on a certain level Draco could see why the other boy would be constantly suspicious of a man that had never made a secret of the fact that he hated him, Draco could never understand why Potter had to be so dense about things. Purposely confrontational rather than using certain opportunities to curry favor. Snape was not going allow Potter to come to harm right under Dumbledore's nose and a true Slytherin could have used these weeks as a time to ingratiate themselves with an enemy. But Potter was unbendable. He would never give into someone that he had felt wronged him- even when it was in his best interest. It was the reason why the _Inquisitorial Squad had gotten to him so easily- he would break any rule, or go against any authority if he believed that he was doing the 'right thing'. It must be a Potter family motto- No survival, just high morals._

"You hit your head, right now I wager the only thing that's prevented you from blacking out is the fact that you have enough alcohol in your system to topple a small horse! This will clear up the concussion that you've most likely saddled yourself with and do me the service of sobering you up!"

Potter obligingly drank the potion, grimacing at the taste. After a second he gave a hard swallow and let out a slow, deep breath. He looked nauseated and his pupils were largely dilated.

"The hangover is your reward for being a dunderheaded moron. I swear to Merlin Potter, I have never in my life met someone so obsessed with causing trouble at every turn. I grant you the simple curtesy of actually assuming you have the ability to walk around a seven square mile radius without someone holding your hand and this is how you repay me."

Potter had his head leaned back and he let out another slow breath. He seemed to be getting himself under control and after a moment he looked up, there was flash of defiance before a stranger more foreign look entered. Guilt. Draco had seen it before- he had shared classes with Potter for 5 years and had seen that look with other teachers, but never Snape.

"I'm sorry," Potter muttered, eyes averted. Severus raised an eyebrow, clearly as surprised as Draco that the Gryffindor would not only apologize for something, but to address it to someone that he obviously despised. Draco had certainly never heard the other boy apologize for anything in past.

Potter's jaw clenched and his right hand fisted together as if to force himself to keep speaking. "I- It was stupid, getting pissed I mean. I didn't really mean for it to happen..."

Draco actually believed that. The Gryffindor had come to the local pub with his 'fooseball' ball mates or whatever absurd sport the muggles around here all played and had gotten caught up in a tournament of darts. The winner was rewarded with a shot of whiskey from the losing opponent and Potter had run the room for close to two hours. Aside from the shots of liquor he had also never had an empty pint glass because he had never been without an offer from friends and women alike. It was clear that the Gryffindor Golden Boy was an inexperienced drinker and by the time one drink had become three, and three drinks had turned into about a dozen he had been blind drunk.

Despite the fact that Potter had only been known in the village for about two weeks, 'Jimmy Evans' had become almost inexplicably popular. He had seemingly made friends with everyone, teens and adults alike, and was apparently a frequent customer at multiple shops and restaurants. He was known for being polite and a patient listener to anyone that wanted to talk and a funny and interesting conversationalist for anyone that needed a distraction. Two roles that he had never before seemed to fill at Hogwarts, where he had largely remained secluded with his two sidekicks.

Draco had no earthly idea why Potter felt the need to spend his all of his time hanging around a bunch of muggles and hearing about their lives but he had learned long ago that the Boy-Who-Lived was nothing but a Blood Traitor. As much as Draco himself enjoyed being superior to the people around him he knew that he couldn't have stood to subject himself to such company for hours on end. Though the fact that the only beings that Potter communicated with at Prince Manor was a Parselmouth portrait and the House-elf, perhaps he was just lonely.

Of course to Potter it must have helped that the people practically idealized him, when Draco had gone to visit two of the few Purebloods in the muggle-infested town, all he had heard about was the spectacular skill the new boy possessed in the muggle sport. Potter's little orphan friends had apparently been talking him up all over Market Street. Draco had sneered as he was forced to endure the now familiar awe people used when speaking of Potter's athletic skill. It had been the same since their First Year at Hogwarts and Draco had somehow been tricked into showcasing the Gryffindor's flying skill. In a move that would have gotten any other student immediately expelled, Potter had landed himself a coveted spot on the Quidditch Team. A spot that as much as it pained him to admit even to himself, Draco knew Potter filled with finesse. Potter had been the best Quidditch player in the school for the past 5 years running and the fact that he was able to dominate a mere muggle sport had not surprised him in the least.

The big match had been earlier that day and most of the village had turned out to see it. Draco had been surprised to learn that most of the other team had been comprised of the wealthier muggles and, of course, wizarding teens of Crescent Nest. Draco could not fathom why any self-respecting wizard would want to run around a field like a muggle kicking a ball at a giant net. Playing any sport after Quidditch seemed impossibly dull to him. However, the local wizards and witches seemed to enjoy the mundane sport quite as much as their muggle counterparts. Draco knew that it was for this reason that his Father and Mother had never allowed him to have muggle or mudblood friends when he had been a child, neither had wanted their corrupting influences on their heir.

The Wizarding Families of Crescent Nest had taken on the burden of protecting muggles from all of the Dark Creatures that they were too stupid to comprehend and so it only seemed fair to Draco that it was these families that commanded most of the wealth and prestige in the town. The "Nesting Falcons" as the largely Wizarding dominated team was referred to had the advantage of nicer equipment, more training and the better field than the "Empty Nesters" as the boys from St. Michael's alongside the other poorer families in town called themselves.

Draco had gone down to watch the match alongside Angelus Blake, a soon-to-be Seventh Year Slytherin that Draco knew from Hogwarts, and Catherine more out of boredom than anything else. It was Saturday which meant that the Ministry Defense Class was not scheduled and he had finished his summer homework the previous week. It was a brilliant summer day, bright sun with a light breeze and though Draco would never admit it to another living soul he also couldn't help but be curious about watching Potter play the muggle sport.

Though rumors of his skill and speed had been spread all over the village, few people had seen him actually play. The Empty Nesters- a name that Draco assumed was meant to either inspire humor or pity for a bunch of rudderless orphans- practiced in the open field at the same times as the Nesting Falcons did on the other side of town on the proper pitch and Draco and Angelus were still in Defense Class at the time.

Draco was reluctantly impressed with the Ministry's effort at finally teaching them actual spells for a change. For years Defense Against the Dark Arts had been a joke of a class. They had been taught nothing and Draco knew that they were well below the level that they should performing at. The class was taught by Auror Trainer Aurora Tackley and though strict, she was undoubtedly confident and talented. Only about half of Draco's yearmates were attending the class, mostly Purebloods and Half-bloods with the exception of the mudblood Granger because she was both a prefect and loath to miss out on any class available to her. Draco had found that he rather enjoyed not only having the advantage his other classmates who couldn't attend the class, Potter especially, but liked marking the progress of the people in attendance. Knowledge was power and he intended to have as many answers as possible if the Dark Lord ever required information on the next generation of witches and wizards.

And to that end, he was about to see just how fit Potter was, even if it was against a bunch of muggles. Draco had never seen a muggle sporting event but he was surprised to find that it was not actually that different from watching a Quidditch match at Hogwarts. Either side of the pitch was dressed up the self-designated 'team colors' that they were supporting and were shouting a series of popular chants and whistles that they all seemed to know. While both teams had been known to play neighboring towns, the two home-grown town teams had a long standing rivalry. The richer kids were determined to show why they were superior, the poorer ones confident that this was the match that they were going to win at long last. Angelus had none-to-quietly informed Draco from the Nesting Falcon's stands that their team had an undefeated winning streak dating back for the past 5 years. Catherine had drifted off for the moment to greet some friends from the other side of the field. She was one of the few people present that seemed to genuinely support players on both teams and Draco was a bit surprised that no one seem to hold her divided loyalty against her. Then again, Catherine- in true Hufflepuff fashion- had always possessed the ability to bring all sides together rather than pull them apart.

"Angelus!" Draco turned towards the call of the feminine voice and felt his eyes widen and breath come up short. The girl hurrying over to them was simply gorgeous. Wavy dark hair, tight, form-fitting muggle- clothing that Draco suddenly had a new appreciation for.

"My cousin Elena," Angelus muttered and then more quietly, "muggle. Don't say anything you shouldn't."

Draco nodded, stunned that any muggle could look so magical.

"Nice seats, do you have room for me?" she asked with a smile, her exotic accent lilting gently over the words.

"Of course," Angelus answered courteously. "This is Draco Malfoy, he's staying with Mr. Snape at the Prince Estate for the summer."

Elena held out her hand, "pleasure. I think you're sitting on the wrong side, if you want to support Jimmy shouldn't you be sitting on the left?"

Draco raised an eyebrow at the thought of him ever supporting Potter but remained outwardly unmoved, "and what makes you so certain that I'm here for Evans anyway?"

Elena's glinted with amusement, "touché. I suppose I made an assumption given that you live together. I thought of sitting there myself by Angelus refused to move and I promised to sit with him." As if to prove a point she deliberately raised a hand and waved at the opposing sideline where Potter caught her eye and returned the gesture, an easy but delighted grin on his face, his eyes narrowing as he took in who she was sitting next to.

"My word, has Elena Consavas, unreachable gift to men, found herself smitten?" Angelus teased, his eyes following his cousin's gaze as she tracked Potter with her eyes. "I thought you generally liked the ones that were dark haired and mysterious." Nodding over at the brown hair and lighter features of 'Jimmy Evans'.

Elena shrugged, "I wouldn't say _smitten_ , but I might say... intrigued. And how do you know he isn't mysterious?"

Angelus scoffed, "Crescent Nest's resident social chair? Have you been down to the local lately? He talks to everyone. He goes into every shop and chats up every clerk by name. I mean _all_ of them," he added with a significant smirk.

"He's... friendly," Elena conceded seeming to search for the word as she was not entirely familiar with the language, brushing off the added innuendo, "but have you actually talked to him? Because if had you might notice that he isn't open. I've asked around and no one knows his whole story and he is the first person to work for Sylvia and not fallen under her spell. I told you- intriguing. Don't say to me half the people here aren't curious to see how he lives up to stories everyone's been saying about him."

There was no argument to be made about that, the town had practically been buzzing with news of the ringer that the Empty Nesters had found.

The game was set to begin when a last player ran over to the Potter's team, sprinting with graceful and easy speed, her long blond hair swaying in her ponytail. She was the only female player on either team.

"They actually agreed to let Regina Stallwarth play?" Angelus asked, his usual cool detachment replaced with genuine surprise.

"Who is she?" Draco asked. The girl was clearly fit. She was smaller than her male teammates but her legs showed muscled calves and carried her well across the field.

"Reggie is the girlest tomboy that you'll ever meet," another voice answered and Catherine retook her seat. "Loves playing high contact sports and getting dirty and then loves cleaning up and putting on more make up than Lavender Brown at a ball. She's been wanting to play with the Nesters for two years but Charlie wouldn't allow it. Said that she should start her own team for girls." Draco remembered with a wince the trouble that Brown had gone to at the Yule Ball. Even though she had only been a Fourth Year at the time, almost everyone had noticed the lengths the girl had gone to. Draco had been surprised that the effort she had taken had been outshone by Granger, who had managed to look like an actual witch for a change instead of just a bookworm mudblood.

"What changed his mind?" Angelus asked. "He's not one that's known to really have a change of heart once he's made up his mind."

"Jimmy." Catherine answered and to Draco's great annoyance Elena looked more interested than ever. In fact, rather than jealous when the blond across the field threw her arms around Potter before the match was set to begin, she only looked as though she had just accepted a challenge. Angelus gave his cousin a knowing smirk, apparently highly amused by her antics as he leaned and whispered to Draco, "Elena makes a few veela look tame when she sets her sights on someone, and she loves a challenge."

The players lined up in their appropriate positions and the whistle blew, Potter took off like a shot, two defenders hot on his tail. Potter ran up, he ran down, he cut to goal... and the ball was passed to Reggie on his left who was wide open and she kicked the ball directly into the goal. It took another goal for Draco to realize what the players on the field were still ignorant to- Potter couldn't play fooseball. Potter was running the opposition ragged while the sole female player on their team, one that had been left undefended so that they could double team Potter, carried the team to victory. If Draco didn't know better he would swear it was a plan worthy of a Slytherin. Draco had wondered why exactly the team had blown their advantage with a new player by telling everyone how good he was but he had chalked it up to combination of muggle ignorance and Potter's Gryffindor recklessness but now he understood. Potter was the distraction, and it was working. Slowly the supporters on the sidelines saw what Draco had already connected and started screaming at the players on the field to start guarding the girl that they had so far ignored. However, what the Seeker lacked in technical skill he more than more made up for in sheer speed. The players were winded now that they had been chasing Potter for a quarter of an hour and the skinny boy was still able to outstrip the other players, reaching the ball and getting it to the more skilled players on his team before this opponents were able to catch him.

Draco was reluctantly impressed with his school rival, he had seen Potter in the air and knew for a fact that when Potter went into a dive on his Firebolt, Viktor Krum himself would have been hard pressed to beat him, but he had not realized that that kind of speed had translated to moving just as fast on the ground. He knew that Potter had been running a lot in the past weeks but he had had no idea that he could run so fast for so long.

The Empty Nesters had walked away with a narrow 5 to 4 victory and their supporters had celebrated with enthusiasm. Draco had expected an uproar from his side of the pitch but most of spectators had applauded politely, commenting on the fact that it was nice to see a proper match for a change instead of a blow out.

"Cheer up lad," a older woman who worked as a florist said to one of the younger boys, "the Falcons will win the next one but it's nice to make our boys work for it a bit. Makes it all the better when we get them in the final aye?" It had seemed at the time that Potter could truly do no wrong to these people but under the surface tensions had already started to rise and while the spectators had enjoyed the battle of the match, the players of the opposing team had reached past their limit with a group of boys that they were used to one-upping until Potter had inserted himself into the equation.

The rest of the afternoon the town had ridden the high of the match and it had been with good spirts that everyone had met down at the local. It had promised to be an entertaining evening, good cheer and flowing alcohol all around. Four hours later and they were back in Snape's parlor and Potter was looking decidedly worse for wear.

"Potter you have always been a reckless, rule-breaker that has never had the ability or inclination to understand the need for discretion but even I would have thought that you would appreciate the need to keep up a respectable appearance in this town. I required three things from you. That you respect myself, my home and my guest and you managed to do none of these. The fact that you are an embarrassing drunk is only secondary to the fact that you started a brawl in the local pub and embarrassed me. So forgive me if I don't believe a simple apology is adequate." Snape's hands shook with anger and Draco suspected that he was only barely holding on to his temper. Snape had a reputation for being a bit of a recluse in the town and he preferred it that way. His mother's family name still carried prestige and a tradition of power that may have diminished in the past generation but still meant something to the man. The fact that Snape had been called down to collect his ward for fighting while drunk was humiliating and something the man would find unforgivable. Potter eyed Snape's shaking hands warily for a moment but seemed to conclude that the professor had restrained himself from physically lashing out.

Potter closed his eyes and took another deep breath, he was pale and his mouth held a grimace of pain. "Sir I didn't start that fight."

"You are a wizard Potter! Do you have any idea what could have happened if you had lost control? When you drink your emotions, your inhibitions, your _magic_ \- they are will all be out of control and _you_ of all people you cannot afford such recklessness." Potter grimaced at the words and his shoulders tensed. His usual defensiveness was absent Draco suspected that Potter was even a bit frightened of what could have occurred. For the first time the thought struck him that Potter could have unleased substantial damage if he had in fact committed accidental magic. At their age, such occurrences were rare but it was known that the more powerful a person was the harder their magic was to control, add to that the fact that Potter had never experienced being inebriated before and his anger could have been disastrous.

Potter swallowed and his eyes looked guilty but perhaps ingrained habit led him at least try to defend himself. "I didn't start that fight but I couldn't-"

"Of course you couldn't _bare_ not to involve yourself in anything and everything remotely dangerous!" Severus snarled at his student and Draco smirked at the other boy. He knew that it was more than that. Severus had always assumed that Potter had a need to be the center of attention. But Draco knew his rival better than that, the truth was Potter needed to rescue people. Especially the weak. It was why Potter had faithfully defended Longbottom for five years no matter how hopeless the virtual squib was. From their first flying lesson to five years of Snape's potion's classes, Potter had stubbornly refused to allow anyone to mock Gryffindor's least talented wizard, even at times when it had come at a potential cost to his own reputation. And somehow Potter's unfounded belief had seemingly paid off.

In the past year Longbottom had improved his spellcasting and become more confident overall. Draco remembered Daphne Greengrass and Theodore Nott commenting one day on the fact that learning new spells used to take him quite a while but suddenly he was picking up the movements quickly and producing powerful results. Greengrass was always conscious of the class rankings as she had stubbornly maintained the second-place spot for several years, the fact that a mudblood had secured the number one place from First Year on was a sore spot for all Slytherins. Therefore it came as no surprise that she had noticed the change in Longbottom's ability. Nott and Greengrass had not been sure what had caused the turn around, wondering if Longbottom was just an exceptionally late bloomer, but Draco knew better. Magic needs intent and wizards need confidence in that intent. Potter was the reason that Longbottom had improved. He had given the awkward, clumsy boy something that he had never received from his traditional Pureblood family, something that the Professors had never taken the time to encourage- Potter had somehow convinced Longbottom that he was worth something. And the funny thing was, once he believed it, it actually became true.

Potter had an inexplicable need to help the weak. It was that inane desire to care for and satisfy those that had no defense against the attacks and manipulations of others that had caused Potter to intervene in the fight tonight but Draco wasn't sure if the professor knew how Potter's weakness for hopeless cases had set the wheels in motion for some type of confrontation days ago. Snape was a highly intelligent man and Draco was more than aware that if not for the fact that he had a hatred for everything that Potter did, he would have seen it himself. They had both witnessed it after all.

Four days earlier Draco had just returned from his latest Defense class alongside Angelus and had needed to journey into the village to meet Severus who had needed to get some fresh potion's ingredients from the garden outside of Littlefold's apothecary. She had a truly impressive garden, made all the impressive by the fact that she was forced to care for it almost completely without magic. Occasionally a stray witch or wizard would cast a covert spell for her to hurry things along but she handled much of the grunt work either herself or had one of her assistants do it. Draco had endured the trip into the muggle-infested town in his muggle clothes with good humor at the thought of seeing Potter having to get his precious hands dirty.

Unfortunately when he had arrived Potter was nowhere in sight. Draco was informed by the squib that he was running an errand for her. Ever since the old woman had discovered that her pitiful squib was in fact Harry Bloody Potter, she had been more creative with her tasks. Potter still chopped the firewood for her and tended the garden but he was also responsible for almost all of her town business. Draco suspected the woman was willing to do anything in order to keep him as far from possible from the interior of the shop. She had been absolutely horrified by the fit that Potter had thrown. Jerky convulsions before losing all consciousness, even Draco had seen it had been particularly violent. His father had told him about the effects of the famous apothecary when he had been a child, Lucius had described it a slow and painful death. The magic wrestling with the strength of the man, pulling against anything that kept him alive until the magic finally won out and the wizard dropped dead. Potter's magic had won very quickly and as much as Draco would like to chalk it up to Potter being physically weak- he knew better. Which begged the unpopular question in his mind of- just how powerful was Potter?

Severus had been in his usual foul mood, exacerbated by the nice weather outside. Draco knew that quite unlike most people who felt a lightening of their worries and problems when the sun shone brightly, Severus only felt angrier at the increased noise level from children playing.

"Gather the fresh day-dragons," Severus told him shortly. Knowing better than to argue, Draco started on his task, grateful that the garden was in such good order that he didn't have to dig around for what he was looking for. Draco waited until he was positive that they were utterly alone.

"I think Potter might suspect something," Draco finally admitted quietly. He had been wrestling with whether or not to bring this up, the last thing he wanted was for the man to call off their plan as a precaution but the fear of actually failing the Dark Lord was enough that he knew they could afford no mistakes.

"Potter is naturally suspicious of everything that we do, though it has not helped that you have continually look at him like the Seeker that's caught the snitch. Your smugness is a visceral thing- remember we have not succeeded yet. Patience is a virtue and that goes hand in hand with humility until the right time."

Draco would have liked to protest but he knew that he was as guilty as Severus claimed. The anticipation of it all was killing him. Revenge. His thought had been practically obsessive. Two nights previous he had vividly dreamed of the moment when Potter's eyes would light with the knowledge that he had lost and that it had been all his doing. "Is the plan still set?" he asked instead.

Severus nodded. "The full moon is the 25th, Dimitri Anghelescu has invited us to his celebration, you know that he looking to replace his father in social standing and he is planning quite the affair for the end of summer. Potter will be made to attend under the guise of being my gracious guest and the plan is set to commence at 12:30, just as we will be leaving the event. Timing is important Draco," Severus stressed and Draco nodded, inwardly satisfied that Severus was so intent on keeping everything so scheduled. He had his own plans that night. He appreciated everything that Severus had done for him and his family but Draco needed to secure his own position with the Dark Lord and he could not afford to share the spotlight. There were no consolations prizes among the Dark Lord's servants as his father had taught him. Draco had his own timing that night and he would be sure not miss it.

"Was Avery successful?" Draco asked as much due to curiosity as to change the subject away from specifics of the plan to capture Potter.

Severus gave him an unimpressed look, "naturally, you and I are both aware of the current state of the Ministry. They have proven to be delightfully inefficient."

Draco frowned, the _Prophet_ had been trying valiantly to put a positive spin on the Ministry's efforts for weeks but it was no secret that the Aurors were being overwhelmed. There had been multiple devastating attacks and it was clear that the Aurors were not up to the right standard. But there was still something that didn't sit well with Draco. "Tackley trained them, and she seems to know what she's about."

"Tackley is a vast improvement over any other Defense teacher you've been exposed to but don't let the fact that you've had a horrible education thus far cloud your judgement and allow someone that is mediocre be considered great. She is an excellent dueler and has a vast array of knowledge but she is also dated and unoriginal. The fact that she has moved from training Aurors to teaching Hogwarts students is an appropriate shift. She provides an excellent base for understanding in any situation and will teach all of you well, but the Ministry has not improved its ideas in over a century and the fact that the Aurors are as unimaginative in their training as students is something that we will use to our advantage. As you are aware Draco, our society is built upon tradition, but even we must acknowledge the need for innovation at times."

Draco nodded, taking in the advice. He had never seen Snape in a fight but his father had once told him that in the First War Severus Snape had been a fearsome sight. He had joined young, just after his seventeenth birthday but his skill with dark curses and potions had quickly won him favor. At the time that the Dark Lord had inexplicably fallen to Potter, Draco knew that Severus had been only 21, and yet he had already become part of the Inner Circle- trusted and treasured above so many other older supposedly more experienced followers. Followers that had served their Lord for years but had contributed nothing but blind loyalty. Worth- that was the difference between surviving and thriving and Draco needed to prove to the Dark Lord that he was in fact a worthwhile investment of the man's time and trust.

They continued working for about a quarter of hour in silence and Draco was already feeling hot and sweaty from the sun. His hands and pants were filthy from working in the dirt and he resented the fact that he was working in a field while Potter was off doing Merlin knew what.

"Hi Mr. Snape!" a small childish voice called from behind them both. Severus' shoulder's tensed and Draco knew that the older man was actively restraining himself from snapping at a boy that looked to be about 6 years old. He was thin-faced with a set of thread bare clothes that hung off him. Obviously a boy from the Children's Home.

"What are you doing here?" Severus answered, his deep voice silky and Draco knew that the small boy did not understand the danger in those words.

"I'm looking for Travis. He's my brother. We's was a opposed to get picked up by our uncle but he's late, really, really late and Travis isn't waiting like he's a opposed to."

Draco winced at the butchering of the English language that the child had done but at least he had the sheer amusement of watching the physical pain that Severus seemed to feel from such hearing such a statement.

"How late is your uncle?" Severus asked, glancing back at the main road as though in hope that the man would appear and rescue him from this conversation.

"Three days."

"Three... I don't think he's coming," Draco told him confused as to why no one else had broken the news to boy yet.

The small boy shook his dark head, his wide brown eyes blinking at him innocently. "No he's gotta come. Daddy is in trouble and can't get us and mummy said that we gots to go with Uncle Jeffery. She said so. But it's only for a little while then we can goes back to her. He's just busy, sometimes he and Daddy goes to pubs and forgets to come back right away."

Severus raised an eyebrow at the statement and looked significantly at Draco as though warning him against saying anything further. The boy continued, clearly oblivious to anything being strange about his statement. "I think Uncle Jeffery mighta found Travis anyways because Charlie told me this morning when I was looking that he was teaching us the Orphan Shuffle. Do you know what that is? Is like a dance? We learned dances at school but I gets mixed up with the steps. Do you think it's hard? Do you think Travis will show me?"

"Er... I don't... I don't know what that is," Draco answered nonplused. He supposed it was some sort of muggle custom for children that were taken by the government from unfit homes. Perhaps something to do with paperwork or some such thing and judging from Severus' reaction, he was just as ignorant of the term as Draco was.

"Travis!" the small boy yelled suddenly, apparently seeing the object of his search, and Draco saw that the boy in question was actually about his age, perhaps a year or so younger and nearly an enlarged copy of his younger brother. The older boy was sporting a rather impressive black eye with a yellowing bruise on the opposite cheek. He was walking alongside Potter, who was carrying two bags of supplies for Sylvia, and another muggle boy. The three older boys were in deep discussion, Travis' expression was one of deep preoccupation which led Draco to believe that while his brother might be delightfully oblivious as to what a three day wait from their uncle might mean, the teenager was not. Potter was nodding, his own expression serious but concerned while the third boy had a look of smug amusement on his face, clearly unconcerned about Travis's predicament. The small boy, who Draco realized had never offered a name, ran up to them. Potter was the first greet him, his mouth quickly shifting from a firm, serious line to an easy smile.

"Alright Miles? I thought you were going to help Abby in the kitchen."

The boy ran up to the three teens so that the four of them were about 15 meters away. Far enough that Potter was not immediately aware of their presence, or perhaps the better the word was _concerned_ about it for there was no doubt that he could see them. However, they were still close enough that both Draco and Severus could hear the conversation clearly.

"Hiya Jimmy! Abby told me that I was such a big help that I was already done!" Severus raised an eyebrow at that remark in Draco's direction and Draco returned it with a knowing smirk, while Travis and Charlie both looked rather amused. Potter only nodded, though his lips quirked up as well. Miles turned to his brother, "I was looking everywhere for you! Have you seen Uncle Jeffery? Did he you teach the Orphan Shuffle like Charlie said?"

Draco quickly spotted 'Charlie', from the spark of cruelty in the boy's eyes, Draco recognized it as someone who was about to reap the fruits of a well-played prank. Potter and the brother both looked confused for a moment, Potter mouthing the words before realization lighted his eyes. He turned and sent a glare at the taller blond boy, whispering harshly, "really?"

Travis was quite obviously still in the dark alongside Draco but had at least determined that the other boy's intentions had not been ones of kindness towards his younger brother. Draco noticed that Severus had finished gathering his needed herbs but curiosity had apparently held him from actively leaving, the older man was buying his time at this point, moving slower than necessary so that Potter would not realize that potion's master was at all interested in his latest drama.

"What is it? Can you show me?" the small boy persisted, unaware that he had stepped right into the punchline of a cruel joke.

Travis grimaced, his tone curt and annoyed as he spoke. "It's not a dance-"

"Miles," Potter cut in, "Charlie wasn't talking about a dance he was letting you in on a secret. Travis was going to tell you when you saw you but Charlie," and here Potter deliberately elbowed the other boy none too gently as a subtle but forceful rebuke of the boy's actions. "He almost spoiled it."

"What's the secret?" Miles asked anxiously.

"Jeffery isn't coming," Travis muttered dully, his face was pale and there were dark shadows under his eyes as though he had not been sleeping. The small boy might not have been bothered when his uncle had been delayed a couple of days but the teen had realized that whatever plans had been made for their guardianship had obviously fallen through and the uncertainly was clearly weighing on him. His battered face gave Draco a rather blunt answer to the question of what kind of trouble the father was in.

Miles blinked in disbelief. "But he has to! Mummy said."

"Yeah well mum was wrong-"

"But now you get to know the secret," Potter said firmly, crouching down so that he was kneeling in front of the small boy that was now suddenly on the verge of tears. "I do?"

"That's right. I know that you were only supposed to stay at St. Michael's until your family came to pick you up but what most people don't even know is that everyone who stays here is like one big family and they're _all_ ," Potter shot a warning look up at Charlie with this word, "going to look out for you. Travis most of all. You know what that means?"

The younger boy shook his head. "It means that you get a much bigger family than most people and in a way it's even more special. You don't have to worry about your uncle coming because you can always choose your family from the people that make you the happiest. Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Miles frowned as though unsure, he glanced at Travis whose expression had hardened. "But... what about mummy and daddy?"

"Jesus Miles! How can you still believe-"

"Family is anyone that you want it to be," Potter jumped in loudly, standing up so that he was next to the teenager, he was talking over the boy firmly but somehow refrained from being outwardly aggressive, placing a hand on Travis' shoulder as a way of holding back whatever he had been about to say. "It can be as big or small as you want but the important thing is that you care about them and that you remember that they care about you. Even if they can't be with you right then."

"Like how mummy has to stay with Daddy because he needs her right now?"

Potter's jaw twitched at that but he nodded, "right. Even if she can't be with you right this minute, it doesn't mean that she doesn't love you. But it also doesn't mean that you don't get to find other people that care about you too. Travis loves you and as long as you can stay with him, he's going to take care of you and everything is going to be alright."

The older brother closed his eyes and breathed out, his face tight with tension but he still nodded, "that's right Miles. We're in this together. Don't worry about Jeffery. Listen, I have to talk to Jim for a minute, go find Sylvie and give her this bag, alright? We'll bring the other one in when we're done. Can you do that for me?"

The six year old agreed happily, clearly proud to be asked for his help in this task and ran towards the shop with the bag.

Travis turned back to Potter, his expression still tense and worried. "I don't know if I should be thanking you or telling you to shut the hell up. You shouldn't be telling him that I have all the answers and that everything's going to be alright."

Charlie snorted and looked amused but Potter turned, facing away from Draco so that he could not see the expression on the wizard's face but he could see that it silenced the muggle in a way that was a probably a unique experience to a boy that Draco could see was used to doing as he pleased when it came to his treatment of others. Potter then turned back towards Travis, any evidence of whatever his expression had been was gone.

Potter shook his head, "to him you do have all the answers and that's the important thing."

"And when he finds out that I don't?"

"Who said that you don't?" Potter challenged. "You told me that you've been through this before. You know what to expect. You've already done more for Miles than anyone ever did for you. When you were his age, would you have believed everything your mum said about how things are going to be different after she gets your Dad some help? Would you have trusted them that much?"

Travis raised an eyebrow at that, his lips curling into a sneer. Potter nodded. "Don't let a bunch of idiots that don't know you convince you that you don't know what you're doing in your own life. You've fought this long and you're going to be a legal adult in a couple of years. If you need to, get emancipated. Don't wait for other people to do what you need to do for yourself and Miles."

Travis snorted, "easy for you to say. Have you ever had to deal with one of those loonies from Child Welfare?"

Potter shrugged and his voice was a bit colder as he laid down a firmer tone than before. "No. But I do know that sitting around and complaining about how it's unfair that the Crown wants to put Miles in a foster home away from you isn't going to help anything. Things aren't hopeless, you said yourself that they don't like to split up siblings if they can help it. What you need to do now is prove what you can do instead of sitting around worrying about what you can't." Potter ran a hand through his hair distractedly, his tone suddenly lightening. "I know it's not easy Travis, and I've never had a younger brother to look out for on top of myself but you've done a great job so far. You can do this."

Travis was silent a minute before he said softly, "No one will take both of us."

Potter tilted his head, "then you stay at St. Michael's. Create your own family like I told Miles."

Travis' shoulder's sagged as though crumbling under a weight, or was it that the tension was finally gone from them? He looked up at grinned at the dark-haired boy. "You sure you have to back to that posh school of yours? You and I both know that you must hate hanging around all those rich snobs. You could be part of the extended St. Michael's family you're so keen on."

Potter gave a good natured laugh. "Sorry mate, already put in enough time at school for me to give in now, rich snobs or no. Now go find Miles and stop him before he thinks he can go help Sylvie with something."

Travis rolled his eyes with exasperation at that but hurried back towards the shop.

Potter nodded and watched him go before rounding on Charlie who had been remarkably quiet during the exchange. All friendliness was gone from his tone. "Orphan Shuffle? Are you kidding? He's six."

Charlies shrugged, unconcerned, "I don't see why that doesn't mean that he shouldn't learn the way of things. He'll get shipped around and no one will want him. Or at least they won't want him and Travis together, and you're kidding yourself if you think Travis is going to be able to stop it. He's six, he's cute- he has a shot at least, but Travis? C'mon Evans even you can't be that daft. You think you did them a favor? At least I didn't give the kid false hope."

"Don't act like you were doing this as a favor either! You weren't preparing him for the possibility of getting split up from his brother, you liked the fact that someone else is as miserable as you are," Potter hissed.

Charlie's good humor vanished and in an instant he was angry and aggressive. He clenched his fists and took a step towards Potter, clearly read to strike, but the wizard stood his ground with an expression that showed that he was supremely unimpressed. "You better watch it Evans, you can't afford to go around making everyone an enemy. Wasn't it bad enough that you already got into today with Derrick and Jackson?"

"Isn't it bad enough that I already had to stop one pretentious asshole from picking on a kid that's already had a shit week?" Potter shot back. "You think I'm worried about making enemies? I promise you Charlie, you have no idea how I good I am at making enemies and fighting my own battles. In fact I think I'm even starting to enjoy it, so by all means, keep going. Keep acting like you're the only one around here that has ever had any problems so that lets you treat everyone else like shite. But I'm telling you now Charlie that as good as I am making enemies- I'm even better at fighting them." Potter's voice was slow and cold and Draco felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He had only seen Potter like this a handful of times, the most notable had been at the end of last year when Snape and McGonagall had both interrupted their fight in their corridor. When Potter had so calmly told the feared Potion's Professor that he was debating which curse to use on him, the Gryffindor's entire being supremely unconcerned with any repercussions for his actions.

Charlie was a shade paler but to his credit he didn't back down fully. While the muggle boy had clearly realized that he had made a mistake in antagonizing the black-haired boy he still seemed uncertain as to how much danger the skinny teenager actually posed. Muggles were not used to gaging someone by the sheer power that radiated from them and it must have been a rather confusing experience because there was no doubt that he felt something.

There was a beat of silence before Potter's voice softened, and his last words were quiet but spoken with intensity, "if you know what it's like to have life beat you down, the least you can do is help someone else when they've been kicked in the teeth."

Charlie sneered, "because people just lined up to help me, right?"

"They should have. But that's on them, what you do is on you, Charlie. You know that these kids will do anything that you ask them to do. They look up to you, why not do something that's actually worth seeing?" he asked with his brow raised.

The blond teen looked vaguely taken aback by this question but after a moment he nodded, his expression thoughtful, as he walked away. It was only once he was gone that Potter seemed to fully grasp that less than 20 meters away were his two Housemates for the summer. Draco wasn't sure what kind of reaction he had expected from Potter at seeing the two of them there, but he knew that the cool stare and challenging lift to his brow was not it. Potter knew that Draco had heard what he had said about fighting enemies- and it was clear that the warning was meant for him too.

HPHPHPHP

Snape had finished mixing his concoction and was rubbing it onto Potter's battered face. The Gryffindor was sitting stiffly, looking strangely confused at this behavior but for once was not commenting. He had not responded to Snape's last accusation, that he had behaved arrogantly and rashly.

Potter's brow furrowed as though in pain and his face flinched but he said nothing.

"I'm surprised Potter, I expected more of your excuses and justifications for your appalling behavior. In my experience it's never the great Harry Potter that is responsible for anything."

"And in my experience you blame me for everything anyway, so what does it really matter?" Potter muttered under his breath. His left-hand knuckles white as they gripped the sofa cushion, giving Draco the impression that Potter was not fully concentrating on what he was saying.

Regardless of circumstances, Snape was unimpressed with the attitude. "I allowed you more latitude than I should have. I, of course, had my doubts, but the Headmaster encouraged the idea that you be allowed to interact in the village. No doubt he was under the impression that the precious so-called 'Chosen One' needed to move past the pathetic grief that you were wallowing in at the end of last year over a man that you barely knew. He thought a bit of a distraction was needed but from all appearances you haven't spared your beloved godfather much of a thought since you got here."

Any color in Potter's pale face drained from it and he blinked for a second in pure shock. Even Draco felt this particular insult was rather below the belt but it was no secret that Severus had been far from upset at the news of Black's death. Draco did not know the history personally but his mother had told him in the past of the fact that Severus had had a particularly fierce hatred for both Potter Senior and Black for years.

Snape's expression was one of fury as he continued on relentlessly, seemingly unmoved by Potter's state of shock. "Any leniency in my treatment towards you is over. You will leave for work at Madame Littlefold's at 8:30 and I expect you back at the Manor by 4:30. You will be expected to spend your evenings in the parlor where I will watch you actually open a book and complete the summer assignments that I doubt you have finished or if you have I am certain are not up to any decent standard. Your free reign in this town comes to an end tonight, am I understood?"

Potter's shock melted into an expressionless mask as he answered coldly, "yes sir."

HPHPHPHP

Draco had entered the pub at a little after half past nine and Potter was already playing darts with a group of lads and older men that looked as though they could have been grandfathers. The whole room was loud, shouting over blaring music that sounded ridiculous but was evidently popular among the muggles. The older men present were chatting with Potter while the younger lads were telling jokes and laughing drunkenly. Draco couldn't hear what was being said until the appearance of the blond girl- Reggie- from that afternoon. Catherine had been correct, the girl liked to dress up after the match was done for the day and was currently wearing a tight black dress was appealing in all the right places.

"Jimmy! You have to dance with me, this is my favorite song!"

"Er...not really a dancer Reggie," Potter hedged.

"Oh no you don't, you don't get to ditch me after the match we had today. Teammates are always there for each other!" She shouted expressively, her arms were wide open and she was smiling at him winningly. Potter flushed and shuffled uncomfortably. "I...er..."

Reggie was undeterred and captured both his hands, pulling him out on the dance floor as she said, "you can't not dance to this song! Everyone loves it." Draco couldn't make out Potter's response but Reggie threw back her head and laughed. "you're kidding? You don't know who sings this?"

Potter shook his head, looking bemused as he glanced around at the other teens that looked just as shocked at hearing this news. "You've never heard of the Spice Girls?"

Potter shook his head, answered drily. "I lead a very deprived life, Reggie."

"Well, we are going to fix that," Reggie answered, her eyes twinkling with a promise of something a bit more than a mere dance. Potter's flush was visible from across the room and Draco snickered to himself that the great Boy-Who-Lived was always so uncomfortable with direct attention. Fame truly was wasted on the wrong people.

Reggie laughed and pulled Potter forward, urging him to dance with her. Potter was looking awkward and hesitant but more pliant than usual, thanks in large part, Draco could only assume, from the row of empty glasses.

"Unbelievable," Angelus muttered at his side. He nodded over to the temporarily abandoned dart board. "That squib has some sort of mystery skills. He's beaten the last five blokes and the last one he did while pissed out of his bloody mind." Draco smirked. He could see Potter swaying clumsily on the dance floor and could only imagine Severus' reaction when Potter came stumbling home. Draco, of course, would ensure that the older man would be awake to greet the boy home. It was only the responsible thing to do.

"Come on," Angelus mentioned, "let me show you around." As it turned out, Draco knew quite a few of the wizards present both from Hogwarts and in some cases social circles that their families were in though under normal circumstances, they knew enough not to encourage him into anymore muggle interaction than was strictly necessary, tonight there was no avoiding it. Soon he found himself in the center of a large group of boys, most of whom had played on the Nesting Falcon's team that afternoon, and unlike the opposite of the room, they were not at all impressed with the new boy Jimmy

Like any small town Crescent Nest had a very established pecking order, one that placed the people from the richer, most established families at the top and the ones that lacked the proper connections at the bottom. This was the natural way of things as far as Draco was concerned and was not surprised at all that Potter was once again trying to stick his nose in where it didn't belong. Potter's need to defend anything and everything that was blatantly pathetic had evidently reared its ugly head and he had been known to tell of more than one of the boys when they had said anything that he disapproved of. The other boys complained loudly and with increasing anger about the presumption that so many of the boys seemed to have.

The tall blond, Charlie, had been a sworn enemy of theirs for some time, but it was Evans that seemed to get under their skin in the way that Draco knew only a Potter was capable of doing. Potter made it clear that he was not about to let anyone pick on people that he considered friends and had a way of humiliating the other boys in front of their girlfriends- who suddenly seemed t be sympathetic towards the less fortunate kids in the town.

Another hour passed and as the drinks flowed, it became clear that the former hierarchy was going to need to be reestablished- one way or the other. The music blared, changing from a catchy tune that came back to the phrase "I'll Love You Always, Forever" over and over and into a rousing club song that apparently came out of Manchester called "Move Move Move" that got the noise volume up near deafening levels. The conversation shifted to other topics, more specifically ranking some of the women and how likely they were to take notice of them.

Draco was enjoying himself, allowing himself to melt away from the concerns that had been plaguing him all summer. Guilt and concern for his father, worry about his mother. Her Healer had written earlier that day and was optimistic about her progress but was sorry to say that at the moment she wasn't able to contact him. It was too upsetting. Writing to her own son had become too upsetting for her.

His worry for his parents and his need to prove himself to Dark Lord was what kept directing his thoughts back to the plan against Potter. It was perfect and the stupid prat would never even see it coming. With every passing day it was becoming harder and harder to wait. Just four more days.

He had lost track of Potter at some point but he caught sight of him being pulled in from somewhere outside alongside the blond fooseballer, her tight dress a little further up her thigh, his collar even more rumpled than before.

The night should have ended right then. Most of the boys that Potter had been hanging around with had left for the night. The group home had a curfew and while some were stretching its limits most had decided to toe the line. Everyone else was comfortably drunk and happy but Potter had a knack for attracting trouble in the most mundane of situations and tonight was no exception. It started innocently enough. Some of the lads from the Nesting Falcons drunkenly commiserating their loss- perhaps a bit more bitter than was strictly necessary.

At first Potter seemed determined to ignore them. While some of his remaining teammates- the hot-headed Charlie first among them- had been eager to respond, Potter had pulled them back, claiming that it wasn't worth it. And then Jackson Smith, Pureblood member to a family that had belonged to the Hufflepuffs for a couple of centuries and a few years older than his cousin Zachariah, made the mistake of taking things too far.

"Oy Travis-"

"Smith I told you, let it go. It was one match and you lost. Let it go and I'll buy you a drink," Potter tried once more. His eyes were unfocused and from Draco's vantage point at the edge of the growing crowd he was almost impressed that the impulsive Gryffindor had managed to hold in his vicious temper as long as he had. He was currently the only thing preserving the peace between two groups that had been on a collision course ever since Potter had disrupted the natural order of things by defending the targets of the boy's teasing. Potter had never appreacited the fact that society was built around those in charge and those that served- insisting that everyone was equal and should be treated with respect. It was the reason that he hung around the mudblood Granger. Though he supposed that one picked the Weasleys as an example of what a Pureblood family should represent, the message was easily muddled.

"What's the matter? Crower can't fight his own battles? I though the only person that beat him down was his old man? Then again, maybe you should be buying him the drinks Evans- I'm sure he'll wind up being a drunk just like his old man!"

Travis had started forward but once again Potter's hand was on the other boy's shoulder and pulled him back. For a moment it looked as though Potter was going to once again tell the other lads to ignore what was being said or perhaps even get them all to leave. They were outnumbered at this point- it was the only reason that the boys had chosen this moment to speak in the first place. Just as any winning side would do, they had waited until they had sure advantage and then struck where it hurt the most. It would the height of stupidity for Evans and his muggle mates to fight them now.

But then Potter turned around- and punched the taller boy squarely in the jaw. The thing that surprised Draco was not seeing the punch- it was hearing the distinctive crack against the jawbone.

That was all it had taken and chaos had reigned. Both sides and fallen on one another, with Draco free to watch the melee from relative safety. There was no need for him to dirty his hands, Potter had taken on at least three of them, one of punching him in the stomach only for Potter to turn and elbow him in the face, breaking the boy's jaw. Draco could see that Potter was not the strongest hitter, nor was the most intimidating with his medium stature and thin frame. But he could take a punch, shaking off the pain as though it meant nothing to him and unlike so many of the other boys who were stood their ground as they punched or kicked their enemy- taking as much punishment as giving- Potter knew how to duck and turn to avoid as many blows as possible.

Finally one of his assailants viciously threw him over a table, causing him to smack his head soundly on the side. Blood had trailed his temple, down his cheek and Potter had snarled and grabbed the chair to use as a weapon. He had only been stopped from knocking a boy a half a foot taller then him over the head with it when the police had arrive.

And after them- Snape.

HPHPHPHP

"Give me your hands," Severus demanded after he finished attending to Potter's face and casting a spell to fix the two broken ribs he had suffered.

Potter was silent as he raised his right hand, his expression had closed down after the man had brought up his deceased godfather and strangely Draco could not feel entirely happy about that. Draco had been present at the will reading, had heard Black's final words to his godson. He had not known that the two of them were as close as they had apparently been, but judging from the note Black had left and the fact that it had been the only time in five years that he had seen Potter cry (and Merlin knew it was a feat he had tried on more than occasion to accomplish) even if it had been brief, he knew that Snape had been wrong to say that Potter didn't care about the man.

But all of that was pushed out his mind as he looked down at Potter's hands. "What's that?" Draco asked, his eyes on Potter, unable to believe what he was seeing.

Potter blinked for a moment in honest confusion before his brain seemed to kick back into gear and he turned his wrist slightly, catching the sight of the aging white scars on his right hand. He snatched his hand away in what seemed to be more instinct than conscious thought before slowly bringing it back to the forefront. His expression hardened, but there was no shame or embarrassment, if anything there was open defiance.

Potter's quick movements alongside Draco's questions had captured the attention of the potion's master who was eyeing the boy in front of him with suspicion before glancing down and taking in a rather sharp breath. "Potter?"

Potter only raised his hand up closer, his expression still hard and unrelenting.

" _I must not tell lies?"_ Draco asked with a mixture of surprise and distain. "Merlin Potter, I know Gryffindor's wear their hearts on their sleeves and all but isn't that taking things a bit far?"

"Potter..." Snape's voice was low and dangerous. Potter looked a bit startled for a moment and though he couldn't say for certain, Draco thought it was perhaps because the dark haired boy didn't expect the man to care about the injury in the first place. "Explain how you came about this scar. The _whole_ truth." Snape's black eyes were boring into the younger man with an emotion that Draco had never seen from him before, if he didn't know better he would think it might have been concern. Concern for Potter- what a concept.

"Umbridge. When I had detention with her, she had me do lines," he explained, shrugging uncomfortably at the scrutinizing gaze that he was receiving from both Slytherins at this point.

"She had you carve the words into your hand?" Snape asked incredulously.

"Not exactly," Potter admitted, "she just had me use a quill that used my blood to write and it would magically carve it in."

Snape leaned over and snatched Potter's hand before he could recoil. Once the Potion's Master had seen that Potter wasn't going to rip his arm away, he loosened his grip and he held it lightly in his left hand while running his wand over it with his right.

"Something like this, a scar this deep from the type of magic used... it would have taken a long time to make," Snape commented, eyes flicking briefly to Potter's face. Draco was also looking at the deep scar and he realized his mouth had fallen slightly open, contain his surprise. Severus was right, something like that would have taken a long time and though Draco had always known that the Gryffindor was stubborn to a fault he found this to be rather ridiculous. "I seem to recall you spending an inordinate amount of time with Professor Umbridge last year, how many of those detentions were spent using the quill?" Severus asked quietly.

Potter pursed his lips, his initial defiance at being questioned about the scar seemed to be sliding into wariness about the interest that Snape was taking in him. "All of them."

Draco coughed at that, unable to conceal his shock that someone- someone his own age- would show up day after day and do that to themselves and never tell a professor about it, but Snape's only reaction was a tightening of the corners of his mouth.

"Why these words? What did she accuse you of lying about?"

"What do you think? The same thing the Ministry was trying to lie about all year. She wanted me to say that Voldemort-"

"Don't say the Dark Lord's name!" both Slytherins snarled angrily.

"You can't make me help him win!" Potter yelled back suddenly furious. His sudden anger threw them both off and there was a beat of silence. Severus was the first to recover, his eyes growing dark with anger.

"Only fools delude themselves into thinking that the Dark Lord is an enemy that you can beat with sheer defiance," Snape snarled. "He is a master sorcerer who has decades of experience and more power than someone like yourself can even imagine. This idea that you have that you are his equal merely because he hasn't succeeded in killing you yet is arrogant in the extreme and will lead to your downfall."

Potter lifted his chin and spoke clearly. "Every time you call him the 'Dark Lord' or 'You-Know-Who', all you're doing is giving him more power. He feeds off of it. The Ministry did nothing last year because they were too terrified to even admit that he could be back! If you think you're telling me something I don't know by telling me that Voldemort is better than me, than you can save your breath, I already know that! But I also won't give him any more power than he already has. The more people that are afraid, the less they will fight against him. Voldemort might be more powerful than me- but he's only one person. If enough people stand up to him than it really doesn't matter how powerful he is. He's not more powerful than everyone."

Severus was quiet, as though actually thinking about Potter's words but Draco knew that Potter was missing the important part. He sneered at the boy's stupidity, "He isn't alone Potter- you're forgetting the fact that the Dark Lord has his own followers. Do you think that people will stand up against his Death Eaters too?"

Potter turned a flat expression back to Draco. "Most of the Death Eaters are cowards." Draco glared at him, angered by the insult against his father, against the type of man that he was working to become. Cowards- what an extraordinarily Gryffindor ideal, the idea that anyone that challenged them and their view of the world was in the wrong. The Dark Lord had a vision and those that helped him achieve it, who were bold enough to step out of the confines of a world that stifled the Wizarding population in favor of weak, pathetic muggles, were not cowards- they were the ones unafraid of change. Unafraid of progress the way the Blood Traitors were that clung to the idea that they actually owed something to the muggles despite the fact that they were so clearly inferior.

Potter wasn't done. "They fight with Voldemort because they think he's going to win, which only means the same thing. I might not be able to stop Voldemort, he might even kill me, but he can't make me be afraid of him."

There was brief twitch in Snape's face before it became expressionless once more. He took another moment of silence, more time to collect himself than Draco had ever seen the man need before, before continuing.

"Let us focus on the matter at hand, did Dolores Umbridge use this method with all of the students that received detention with her?" he asked sharply, looking at Draco for confirmation.

Draco held up both hands and shook his head. "I wouldn't know, I never got detention from her."

Potter rolled his eyes, "Of course not, you and that toad were thick as thieves," he muttered. Draco only lifted an eyebrow, he would not apologize for playing the game better than the reckless Gryffindor. Umbridge was annoying hanger-on that strove hard to be above her station but ultimately understood the order of things. One needed to be in a position of power to get respect and Draco had ensured that he had maintained power. While Potter was getting his hand sliced open and was being banned from Quidditch, Draco had received more favors and power than ever before. Gryffindor's needed a flashy, moral victory, but the Malfoys were true Slytherins and a Slytherin always knew that true ambition rested in the ends justifying the means.

"Potter?" Snape continued, asking the other boy whether he had been the only one to suffer this unique form of torture.

"I don't think she used it for most. I know she used it on Lee Jordan once after the niffler in her office because I told him to use Murlap Essence to help with the sting but I think she mostly wanted to make sure that whoever she used it on wouldn't say anything," Potter admitted.

"And you willingly played into her hands like a nice little masochistic puppet?" Snape snarled at him, any semblance of something like concern gone with his return to anger.

"You think I should have let her win?" Potter challenged.

"Win? I think the permanent scar on your hand there proves that you lost. What is your definition of winging pray tell?"

"I think that we both started off the year at Hogwarts and next year I'll be there and she won't," Potter answered smugly, surprising Draco with the vindictive quality in his voice. He had heard about Umbridge getting tramped in the Forest and he had assumed it be a lucky accident but there a glint in Potter's eye that showed that he and that mudblood of his had extracted revenge. And he had enjoyed it. "I think that a lot of people who didn't know what to believe, know that I was telling the truth. I think this scar doesn't say anything that isn't true. I don't lie and I don't run away from a fight just because it gets hard."

"And in 10 years? Longer? Will you always be so happy to have that scar on your hand?"

Potter raised an eyebrow and sent Severus a glare that could have frozen fire, "I'll be happy that I stood up for what's right. There are worse scars I could have," he added with a significant look at Severus' left arm.

Snape's face contorted and for a moment he looked as though he might strike Potter himself, undoing any healing that he had just offered the boy but in a moment of either coincident or fate said scar burned with urgency, just as a scar on Potter's body of far more notoriety than the one on his hand could ever hope to achieve, made its own importance known. Severus clamped down on his left arm with a hiss of pain just as Potter's hand shot up to his head and a whimpering moan escaped his lips before he could stop it. "Draco I think we've all had enough excitement for the night, I think it best if you retire to your rooms," he said with a significant look. Draco nodded, his own eyes narrowed with purpose. They both knew that Draco would be coming to the meeting, with his own arm shamefully unmarked for the moment he could not receive the summons personally but with his upcoming mission there was no doubt that his presence would be expected, but they could not let Potter know that.

For his part, Potter seemed as though he would incapable of noticing where Draco went that night as he was currently blinded with pain. His eyes were screwed tightly closed, his knuckles wrapped tightly together. "Potter, take this," Snape commanded, pressing a pain relieving potion into the boy's hand.

Potter looked up in confusion, before settling into distaste and Draco knew that it galled the proud Gryffindor to have to accept help from someone that he considered his moral inferior. Draco could only think that Potter better appreciate the hospitable treatment while it lasted, because in a few days he was going to begging for more than a simple pain reliever.

"Thank you," he said stiffly. He downed the vial in a single gulp but there was no noticeable decrease in the amount of agony that he was in. "Go to your room and stay there, I do not want to find out that you were wandering around without my knowledge, is that clear? I do not expect to see until the morning."

Potter stood, his posture still stiff with pain as he walked out of the room his only response was, "you better be careful, he's pissed right now."

Suddenly Draco found himself wishing for the first time that he had followed his mother's pleas and never involved himself with a volatile Dark Lord.

 **A/N: Sorry this took some time, this was a hard one for me. I wanted to try a bit of a different style when it came to Draco's POV and skip back and forth between one night and the events of the previous week and it was harder than I thought to give away the right information for Draco to see at the right time. Let me know what you think! Thanks again to everyone that has kept up with this :)**


	11. Something Wicked This Way Comes

**Chapter Eleven: Something Wicked This Way Comes**

Harry had found that he very much liked being Jimmy Evans. Jimmy Evans wasn't famous. He wasn't stared at or scrutinized everywhere that he went. He wasn't expected to win a war against a powerful sociopath that the rest of the world seemed incapable of even speaking out against, much less fighting. Jimmy Evans wasn't hated by his aunt and uncle and forced to wear over-sized hand-me downs while the neighbors thought that he attended a corrective school for the criminally insane.

Jimmy Evans was free to work a regular job and play football with boys his own age. He free to flirt with girls and not have to wonder if they were either interested only in his fame or else disgusted by what others had said about him. Jimmy Evans was the normal teenage boy that Harry had always wanted to be.

Harry had never had the opportunity to truly be judged on his own merits. Growing up on Privet Drive his Aunt and Uncle had warned every adult about his troublesome ways and Dudley had bullied every potential friend he had ever encountered into leaving him alone. Things had only gotten worse when he had rejoined the Wizarding World. He had never been 'Harry', instead he had been "Harry Potter the Boy-Who-Lived" and all of the preconceived ideas that came with that. It had not escaped Harry's notice that he had been more than a bit of a disappointment to most people. He wasn't the strongest student in the class, he was shy and uncomfortable in a spotlight. The only 'special' ability he possessed, the ability to talk to snakes, was considered a Dark Art. He often felt that the only truly special thing about him was the fact that he was 'The Boy-Who-Lived".

Which made it all the more surprising for him to find that Jimmy Evans was actually quite popular. He had found that he was more comfortable talking to strangers when they didn't think that they already knew him and he found it freeing to not have to live up to any expectations whenever he tried something new. People were curious but not pushy about 'Jimmy's' life and though Harry had never been much for telling lies and inventing stories, he had fallen into his new life with greater ease than he ever expected.

Harry found himself wishing that he could remain Jimmy Evans for more than the next week.

But the morning after his first ever barroom brawl, he woke up feeling very much like Harry Potter. Every inch of his body was in agony. His legs were aching after the bursts of speed that he had kept up for far too long on the pitch the previous day. He had pushed himself further than he normally did and the alcohol later had apparently only added to his troubles. It wasn't until his third beer that Cormac Tatter, an old ex-army ranger that Harry had gotten to know rather well in the past couple of weeks and found to have a kind of gruff- grandfather-like personality- had casually mentioned that he had hoped that Harry had drank a lot of water after the match because drinking after running around so much would only stiffen his muscles from dehydration. At the time, in the crowded pub, already tipsy from his drinks, he had disregarded the advice but now he wished he had drank a well of water.

His stomach was churning and his head felt as though a dozen Cornish pixies had escaped and made a conga line through his temple. Harry had always suspected that absolutely no good could come from drinking, it had certainly always made his uncle's temper shorter and more unmanageable. In the past couple of weeks as Harry had started to go out with the lads after he had finished with dinner at Snape's, he had cautiously avoided drinking. Snape had never technically said that he was allowed to leave the manor in the evenings but then again he had never said that he had to stay in his room either. He had not wanted to risk adding intoxication to the inevitable confrontation that he was going to face. Harry had, after all, been following his experience with the Dursleys as his guiding force to surviving at Snape's and so far it had been working perfectly. Be quiet, stay out of the way, allow them to forget about you and everything would be much easier. But after the rush of victory from his well-executed plan at the football match Harry had given into both temptation and curiosity and after the first couple of drinks, the next had gone down quicker and easier than expected.

He wasn't even sure if he was in pain from his hangover or from the remnants of his scar the night before- he had a feeling that the two were fueling each other in a way that had him contemplating swearing off alcohol for the remainder of his life.

His thoughts drifted to the events of the previous night. He had felt his scar sear with pain just as Snape had grabbed his arm. He had never seen the connection between the remnant of the Killing Curse and the mark that Voldemort used on the followers that used the Unforgivable with such pleasure in person. Both marks had seared at the same moment in a strangely intimate connection. Snape had responded quickly but calmly- telling both boys to go bed. Harry knew enough about the Head of Slytherin to know that if had specifically commanded that Harry stay in his room, he would have a way of knowing if Harry had followed his instructions. Whether there were spells on his room or by asking the House-elf, Harry knew that he would live to regret it if he stepped out of line so quickly after his last indiscretion. Which was quite a shame considering that Harry was almost positive that Malfoy had not stayed in his room at all- but had in fact been at that meeting.

Truthfully, Harry knew that he had no real proof to base his suspicions on. He knew that Malfoy had not taken the mark- or perhaps the correct phrase was that Malfoy had not been _given_ the mark yet?- because he had seen his unmarked arm left uncovered by the muggle clothes that the Slytherin detested so much. He had also very clearly not been in the same pain that Snape had been in the night before- but unlike Snape whose expression seemed to take on a combination of resignation and determination at what he was about to witness, Malfoy had looked positively excited. It had been so fast that Harry knew that the other boy had not realized that he had failed to conceal his emotions, but Harry had shared classes with the blond long enough to know his expressions fairly well. After growing up with uncle, Harry had always paid attention to people's expressions.

It was a habit from childhood that he had never quite shaken, and wasn't sure if he wanted to shake or not considering how well it had served him over the years. Harry had always needed to know precisely how angry his uncle was on a given day so that he would know to what extremes he needed to go to avoid him. Face slightly red- Harry was free to give just a hint of lip back, face the brightness of tomato- better to stay silent but he could still hold his ground, deep purple? Run for the hills and don't look back. There had really only been one time in living memory that Harry had failed to escape the consequences of a purple-faced Vernon and that had been more than enough. Despite what Snape might think, he was not a slow learner.

And it was from years of having to watch threats and enemies closely that Harry knew that Malfoy was up to something. The blond-haired boy had been eyeing him with a look of smug satisfaction but more than that, in the past week Harry felt the other boy's...anticipation. He wasn't sure what the Slytherin was planning but he knew two things that had begun to make him distinctly uncomfortable. One- Malfoy was showing uncharacteristic restraint and patience. In the past Harry's school rival had been quick to taunt the upper-hand. Leaving cryptic clues about Sirius in Third Year, openly gloating over his position on the 'Inquisitorial Squad", convinced that he had beaten Harry before a fight had even begun. Now he was sitting across the table in Snape's dining room and calmly passing the sugar in the morning, all the while looking very much like the cat that caught that canary. And Two- the fact that Draco seemed positively gleeful made Harry extremely nervous. He had not forgotten that Malfoy had sworn to make him pay for locking up his father and he didn't think for a second that he had either.

The fact that he had been unable to confirm Malfoy's whereabouts for certain after he had returned to his small room had left him with the familiar feeling of gnawing helplessness that had consumed him last year. A feeling that he had been striving so hard to never experience again.

To make matters worse, the one time it would have been truly helpful to be forced to witness one of Voldemort's little meetings in full, he had suddenly gotten his wires crossed. The scar had burned in agony for hours, nearly blinding him at some points, forcing him to crawl to the loo to vomit at others, but there had been no visions to accompany the pain. The closest experience had been the overwhelming happiness that Voldemort had felt after he had orchestrated the mass breakout of his faithful Death Eaters from Azkaban prison the previous January, reducing Harry to a hysterical madman, rolling on the floor but unaware of what had caused the sudden delirium.

This was different though... Harry wasn't quite sure how to describe it because he had never known exactly what to make of the strange connection that he shared with the madman but it almost felt as though he was receiving it through a grainy connection. Almost like before the Dursleys had gotten cable television when he was younger and the channels turned to static at a certain time of night. It was distant and... strained. Was Voldemort trying to keep him out and failing? Was he using Occulumency? And if he was, was he failing because Harry had been right in thinking that his connection to the man was more complicated than anyone even realized. Harry had already discovered that whatever connection the scar made was something deep inside of Harry so protecting himself from outside forces was impossible- could the same be said of Voldemort? Was the source of his 'connection' somewhere deep inside the man's mind or was he the one pressing into Harry's- which would mean that he could use Occulumency while Harry could not.

These were not questions Harry had any way of answering. Snape would only blame Harry for not closing his mind, even if he tried to explain why he thought that might be impossible, and Dumbledore had once again cut Harry off from all communication. He turned his pounding head and his eyes lighted on the letter from Martin Tisdale and he allowed himself a thin smile- almost all communication.

After being able to send and receive a single letter to the Dursleys, Harry had been given some upsetting news. Aunt Petunia was not responding well to treatment. Her physical condition was severe but stable and expected to improve with time but her mental state... she was barely coherent. From the letter that Dudley had managed to write, despite his own obvious distress, Harry gathered that the Healers didn't think that her condition was as severe as he had seen in the Longbottoms- or at least _Dudley_ was under the impression that she was expected to recover, at least mostly. She would always suffer from nerve damage, particularly in her left leg where a cutting curse, combined with exposure to the Cruciatus had caused the most destruction. However, the bigger problem at the moment was that she was also suffering from a severe case of 'Spell Shock' - something Dudley had informed Harry that the Healers had tried to tell the teen that he was experiencing as well.

Harry had not been familiar with the term but Dudley had not elaborated, perhaps assuming that Harry would know anything that had the word 'spell' in it given that he was a wizard. Harry had quietly used Snape's library and discovered Spell Shock was a term used for people, often muggles that were exposed to dangerous magic but not exclusively, that had experienced something highly upsetting and were unable to process it. They were known to suffer terrible nightmares, flashbacks, uncontrollable rage, trouble sleeping or concentrating and were known to startle easily and violently.

Harry felt an uneasy twinge as he recognized so many of these symptoms in himself from the year before. Hermione had once, tentatively, broached the topic of something she had called Post Traumatic Stress Disorder with him after he had poured his outrage on Ron and Hermione one too many times and she had suggested that he ask Madame Pomfrey if there was anything that she could do for him. She had insisted that muggles used therapy and even drugs to help deal with traumatic situations and she was positive that there were potions that acted in the same way.

He had brushed her concerns aside, refusing to believe that the graveyard had affected him so strongly. He was alive, he had survived while Cedric lay dead, it seemed selfish and weak to claim that he couldn't move on and simply be grateful that he had had enough to luck to get out that night. After all, Harry had been able to live through so many terrifying experiences that it seemed ridiculous to him that he wasn't able to move on from this as well. Hermione had said that Harry shouldn't feel ashamed of what he was experiencing as it was apparently quite normal to need help. However, worse than any sleeplessness or nightmares that Harry had experienced was the idea of having to talk about what happened. He had never had an adult to confide in as a child and did not know how to go about asking for comfort and understanding now. With time, and finally with his dream at the beginning of the summer, Harry had finally made his peace with things. His cousin on the other hand had never been one to fix things himself and for the first time it occurred to Harry that Dudley might have suffered from his parents' upbringing almost as much as Harry had in his own way. At least Harry had learned to be self-sufficient.

Dudley was confused and frightened and had unashamedly asked Harry if there were any normal people that he could speak to that could help him understand what to do or how he should help his mother. Vernon, naturally, was little help because he was so scared of magic, anytime the Healers tried to use a spell or potion he refused to let them near his wife for anything other than her physical injuries. He was convinced that if wizards attempted to fix her mental state in any way she would come out of it thinking strange, unnatural things. Harry knew that this couldn't continue and the longer his aunt went without proper treatment the worse it would be for her. Worse still was Vernon's known prejudice against any kind of mental instability. He found it as unnatural as magic- though Harry privately thought that if anyone could benefit from some intensive counselling it was his uncle.

Out of other options, he had gone to Catherine and asked her permission to use her owl to contact his solicitor. The man had said that he was available to fix any problem that Harry came across and he thought this would be a good way to not only help his relatives but to see just how much he could trust Tisdale to help him. Would he keep things confidential? Was he competent? If Sirius had asked him to help than Harry felt sure that he could trust his character but Sirius had also had limited time and available resources to contact anyone else and there was still the sticking point that Sirius had never personally told Harry that he could trust the man. This was a test and Harry suspected that Tisdale knew it.

However, so far Tisdale seemed to be rising to the occasion. Harry had sent him a long letter detailing not only the attack but a detailed history on the Dursleys' feelings towards magic. He asked if there was any Healers or facilities that dealt with muggles that were exposed to magical problems- ones that were more comfortable using muggle methods. Harry had given Tisdale permission to make any arrangement necessary and that he could pay for any required treatments with money from his vault- but was also explicit in saying that while the Dursleys could know that Harry had arranged different treatment for them- so that at least Dudley would know to trust the man- none of them were know that Harry was footing the bill. The knowledge of his wealth was not a topic that he wanted to broach with his relatives, despite nearly being of age it was not a problem he wanted added to his list and the fact that Vernon was still his legal guardian could always present a host of problems.

His aunt was currently in a new facility that combined magic and muggle methods and Dudley was seeing a therapist and had been prescribed some muggle anti-depressants and sleep aids. It was too soon to know if they were actually seeing an improvement but Harry found that he was proud of the fact that he was able to help them in this way. The Dursleys had never provided Harry with comfort or even proper care and he knew that he was probably well within his rights to leave them to their own devices. If the situation had been reversed he knew perfectly well that Vernon would not have spared a thought or a pound on his treatment but somehow that didn't seem important. Harry was responsible for his own actions and at the end of day he would rather feel proud of what he had done to help people that he knew didn't deserve it rather than feel that he should be happy about getting some type of revenge on the Dursleys. If he had allowed them to suffer, would that have made him as bad as the Death Eaters? Harry didn't want to risk it.

As he reflected on these thoughts Harry knew that he had delayed the inevitable long enough, it was time to get up. Time to face the music in the manner of a very agitated Potions Master. Harry let out a groan of irritation mixed with actual pain as he pulled himself upright to get ready for the day. He was running later than you usual- no time for his usual morning routine after the events of the previous night. It was Sunday so he wasn't working but he knew that Snape was not done making him pay for his behavior from the night before. Harry grimaced. He knew that he shouldn't have lost his temper the way that he had but at the same time he couldn't work up any real regret over the fact that Jackson Smith had gotten exactly what he deserved. Jackson was three years older than Harry and had already graduated from Hogwarts. Being in different Houses Harry had never met the older boy before but when he had first been introduced to him he had been uncomfortably reminded of the boy's arrogant cousin Zachariah.

Smith and many of the pureblood families that lived in the town had a superior attitude that irritated Harry to no end. While the other boys from Harry's team were under the impression that they were stuck up simply because they were rich, Harry knew better. They were convinced that they were better than the muggle boys and the fact that their families supposedly 'protected' the muggles from unseen danger- and had done for centuries- only made them more entitled to feel that they were a step above them, despite the fact that none of them had ever actively protected the muggles from anything in their lives.

Malfoy had delightedly informed them all that Harry was a registered squib and when they had been out of earshot of the muggles the Purebloods had laughingly mocked him for being unable to graduate from school and would now be forced to live like a muggle. ' _At least they don't even know what they're missing. It must just kill you to think about all things that you can't do. What were you planning on doing after Hogwarts...you know..._ before _...'_

Harry had not risen to the bait, instead he had pretended to mistake their tone for actual sympathy. He had enough experience with bullies to let the comments roll off of him but he hated that they went after the boys from the Group Home. Travis especially, who had enough to worry about between himself and Miles than to have to deal with a bunch of immature assholes who's biggest concern in life was the fact that they had lost a football match.

He had tried to walk away. Harry had seen that they were outnumbered and knew full well that they were all drunk enough to disregard restraint once a fight actually happened. As blurry as the alcohol had made things, he had not been so far gone as to not realize that he was about to enter a fight that he couldn't win. And he might have been able to walk away if it hadn't been for Smith's final comment. The fact that the spoiled git had had the nerve to claim that Travis would end up just like his father without even knowing all the details or knowing Travis at all had made him see Red. Harry had grown up with his own version of Travis' father- though Vernon was on the whole less physically violent and more mentally abusive and emotionally neglectful- and Harry had no intention of ever being like him.

He knew that he had messed up by getting into a fight but now in the bright light of day for the first time he was clear-headed enough to realize that simple chores or being confined to his room might not be Snape's idea of a proper punishment for his current ward. They were not at Hogwarts- as Snape had pointed out at the beginning of his stay- which meant that there was really nothing that Snape couldn't do to him. Unlike Vernon, Snape's expressionless mask did not even allow Harry to carefully calculate how much trouble he was in. Ordinarily the fact that the man had a night between his anger and seeing Harry would bode well, but considering that Snape had spent that night in the company of a very angry Voldemort, Harry didn't like his chances.

Harry entered the dining room cautiously, only to be surprised to discover that he was the first person to come down for breakfast. He really had no way of knowing precisely when the meeting had broken up. It had seemed that Voldemort's explosive anger had lasted for at least an hour, though the agony and pain had been so bad Harry was in no condition to be at all certain, but that did not mean that the meeting had ended with the man's temper. The absence of Draco added to Harry's suspicion that the Slytherin had been present at the meeting. He wondered at the lack of mark on the blond's arm, he would have thought that considering that Malfoy was a Pureblood and his family name held such prestige he would have been marked already but it seemed that Voldemort wanted Draco to prove himself before he was awarded the honor. Harry knew enough from his previous visions to know that only the Inner Circle were marked as full Death Eaters. It was considered the highest rank and privilege that could be given to one of his followers and not something that Voldemort was keen to give frivolously.

"Good morning Edmond," Harry hissed to portrait, using Parselmouth as he knew the man preferred.

"I would say the same but things appear... difficult this morning," Edmond responded cagily. Harry pursed his lips and tried to think of how much he should say to Snape's ancestor. He could honestly say that he had never had a relationship with anyone quite like the one he shared with Edmond Dupont Prince. The man's values were counter to everything that Harry believed in and Harry suspected that if the man were truly alive and capable of doing more than simply lamenting on the fact that Dark Arts were given such an unjust reputation, than he would have at best stayed well clear of the man and at worst actively fought against him. As it stood, Edmond had proven to teach Harry a way of thinking that he could not deny was useful- even if he found it rather repulsive.

Above all else, this summer had afforded Harry the time to think and reflect on the things that he needed to change in the future. Information was key. Harry had been left stumbling in the dark last year and it had only led to disaster. Curiosity about the war had led to Harry looking into Snape's pensieve and though he was sincerely remorseful for invading the man's privacy, he was also regretful that he had had his illusions of his father burst in such a rough manner. If he had ever tried to fully find out who his parents truly were rather than soak in the stories of their friends as they related them to their orphaned son, he would not have been so blindsided. Ignorance had led Harry to believe that Sirius was in danger in the Department of Mysteries when the prophesy should have been removed by himself months previous to the attack.

As hard as it was to face the truth about his father's faults, it was ultimately for the best. Harry could see the good and the bad. He had seen for himself that his father had changed- his dream had proven that to him. James Potter had been a spoiled child that had liked to bully others to prove that he was stronger, he was also a man that had learned from his mistakes and loved his family above all things. A man who had spent his final moments in this world bravely delaying Voldemort as much as possible in the hopes that his wife and child could escape. People were not all good or all bad. And though it had been painful, Harry was glad that he now knew who his father actually was instead of the picture of him that he had created in his mind as a lonely child.

Harry could allow himself to blindsided by information again- whether it be about his family or the war. And since he knew now that none of the adults in his life were going to offer him information he was going to have to go about getting it anyway possible. Thus his highly unlikely relationship with the snarky parselmouth.

Harry spoke with Edmond each day for at least a half hour, usually more as he would also speak when he returned before dinner and he had learned from the Prince portrait that just because you disagreed with someone on a fundamental level did mean that you could not learn from them. Edmond was a genius when it came to reading situations and people and had a true Slytherin cunning to identifying people's weaknesses. It occurred to Harry that identifying a weakness and exploiting it out of cruelty were not the same thing. And while he could never do the latter, he was beginning to think that perhaps he had better learn the former.

"Do you know if Draco went to bed before Snape left last night?" Harry asked, confident that the man's loyalty would be to a parselmouth over a blood relative. Edmond was an exacting man and projected no illusions of how he felt about his half-blood descendent. Harry's own blood status had never come up but he knew that Edmond assumed that only a Pureblood would have a talent of being able to speak parseltongue. The fact neither he nor Voldemort were Purebloods was something that silently amused Harry but was wise enough to keep this information quiet for now.

"The half-blooded Prince-" as Edmond often ridiculed Snape for being, "has seen fit to freeze my portrait for the duration of your stay. He apparently thinks that the two of us have formed some sort of unholy alliance against him and is working to undermine my usefulness, I am unable to travel to the other frames."

 _So Draco wasn't here_ Harry reasoned to himself. Snape knew perfectly well that Edmond was the only ancestor that spoke to Harry on a regular basis. The rest seemed to have subconsciously absorbed the professor's hatred for him, or else Snape had simply forewarned them that Harry was no friend of the Prince family. Though the latter seemed the more practical answer- Snape's sheer malevolent quality made the former seem eerily possible.

For the first time in weeks Harry was relieved when the post arrived. Ever since his birthday when the story about his relatives had been splashed across the headlines, Harry had been dreading reading more about the 'Boy-Who-Was-Abused'. Strangely though there had been no other articles and he had discovered, much to his surprise, that unlike himself Draco was not in the habit of reading the paper every morning. While Harry had learned after last summer that it was better to know what was being said about him, even subtly, Malfoy seemed to share similar habits to most of classmates and only seemed to look at the paper if there was something of particular interest to him. By some miracle he had missed the headline on Harry's birthday and had not seemed to learn of it since. Harry himself was at a loss as to how the information had stayed a secret even with Malfoy attending the Defense class at the Ministry where one of their classmates must have seen it but he was prepared to stay confused and grateful for small favors as long as Malfoy of all people didn't get wind of his home life with Dursleys. It wasn't so much that he was ashamed, he knew enough to know that _he_ was not the one that should feel shame about how the Dursleys had treated him, but that didn't stop him from feeling embarrassed and he knew that Malfoy would make it unbearable.

Today his luck seemed to be with him for not only was he not on the front pages but Snape wasn't there yet which meant it allowed him to get a look at the front page story, and sure enough his questions over Voldemort's rage were answered in big, bold print.

 **Ministry Department Robbery Foiled!**

 _After a series of highly publicized and embarrassing failures by the DMLE and the Auror Department, last night's successful defense of the Magical Artifact Archive is considered an important victory for the Ministry. On August 21_ _st_ _at a little after 9:00, security was alerted to the presence of unauthorized personnel in the rarely used department. Security was quick to summon Aurors, who successful captured and interrogated three Death Eaters. Details have of the crime have yet to be released..._

"I would think you would be better informed on the events of last night than having to resort to reading the misconceptions and speculation the _Daily Prophet_ has no doubt created," Snape drawled as he entered the room.

Harry set down the paper slowly, trying to take in anything in the potion's master's appearance that might reveal how things had gone the night before. As always the man's expression was inscrutable. There was no way of knowing how dangerous the man's mood was, or how much trouble that meant for Harry.

"I didn't see anything last night," Harry said carefully, knowing that Snape would not believe him. "My scar burned and I could feel that he was angry but I think Vol- he was trying to keep his thoughts to himself," he admitted, consciously avoiding the dreaded name that Snape feared to hear.

Snape seemed to study him carefully, no doubt weighing his words against any sign that he was lying. Harry held his gaze steadily, almost daring he man to use legilimency to prove that he was being truthful.

The tense moment was broken by the appearance of Malfoy and Eppy. "Masters are almost being late, are they being ill? Would they like something light? Tea and toast?"

"That would be acceptable," Snape answered.

"Thanks Eppy, that was really thoughtful," Harry added. He had noticed over the past weeks that Snape was not particularly cruel to his House-elf as he might have perhaps expected. In fact by the man's standards, he was positively polite. He treated the Elf with the same casual distain that he treated most of his students and far better than he had ever treated Harry or Neville.

Nevertheless, neither Snape nor Malfoy ever expressed direct gratitude or gave the elf a compliment despite all that the servant did for them. He had spoken with Eppy enough to know that like most of his kind, he was quite happy to serve. He had joyfully told Harry that he enjoyed working for what he considered "a brilliant master" and was proud to accomplish his work so well that he was never told to punish himself. Unlike Hermione, Harry respected the fact that the elves felt differently about servitude than humans did and as long as they were treated well and they were happy performing the work he saw no reason to disrupt what they felt were happy lives. Hermione insisted that they weren't truly happy, that they were brainwashed into thinking they were. Harry had enough experience with being miserable to feel that if they were brainwashed into feeling happy and content, he didn't want to be one to stop it. That didn't change the fact that Harry knew first-hand what it felt like to be over-worked and unappreciated and he refused to inflict that kind of pain on anyone which is why he went out of his way to praise the elf for his helpfulness. And he found that Eppy was absolutely delighted with the praise and gratitude, the elf would positively flush with excitement as he hurried to fulfill his tasks.

"Is everything alright Severus?" Malfoy asked pointedly, seemingly full of genuine interest but Harry felt that Malfoy's plan was flawed. He had quite obviously poised the question to show Harry that he supposedly had no knowledge of what had occurred the previous night, but if he were truly curious he never would have asked in Harry's presence, wanting to glean information that Snape never would have shared with him present. The question was for Harry's benefit alone and Harry narrowed his eyes as he looked Malfoy over. He was a bit paler than usual, his fingers trembled ever so slightly as he went to put sugar in his tea, though where that was from sustained shock at seeing Voldemort in a true rage for the first time or else another sign of anticipation for whatever the Slytherin had planned for him, Harry couldn't tell and his own stomach clenched in worry. Malfoy didn't scare him, not really, but he knew enough to know that he shouldn't think that just because he was a stronger dueler or more powerful magically it meant that the other boy couldn't still ambush him.

"Everything is fine," Snape answered pointedly. The conversation- such as it was- was interrupted by the sudden appearance of two post owls, each bearing the Hogwarts seal on the letters they carried. Harry raised an eyebrow in Snape's direction as no post was supposed to be able to reach him but once again his professor was unhelpful in providing answers. It truly was a wonder why no one was anxious to nominate him for teacher of the year.

"Finally," Malfoy huffed. "The Ministry was supposed to send the results for our OWLs weeks ago. I can't believe that the results were held up because the Ministry can't manage to do anything properly."

"Yeah the Ministry is only fighting a war and trying to prevent muggles from dying. It really is a shame that they didn't make whether or not we passed History of Magic a bigger priority," Harry muttered with annoyance. Though he had more than his own fair share of complaints against the Ministry and their shortcomings, he was not about to complain about them finally prioritizing human lives over the whims of rich purebloods.

There were two letters for each of them, one from the Ministry and one from Hogwarts and Harry could only assume that with the lateness of the scores, booklists and final course decisions were needed immediately. He felt a moment of trepidation looking at the crisp Ministry seal. There was only one career that Harry had ever seriously considered pursuing after school and one grade would determine if he would be able to continue it or not. Cynically another voice in Harry's head reminded him that his fate was already determined. He would face Voldemort. If he lost- being an Auror would be the least of his concerns and if he won... he doubted a missed potions' requirement would really stand in his way.

Malfoy had already eagerly broken the seal of his letter and was scanning the results. Harry followed with slower, more self-conscious control.

Harry scanned the results quickly. He had gotten Exceeding Expectations in Transfiguration, Charms, Care of Magical Creatures and Herbology. Divination and History of Magic were expected disasters. He had somehow managed an A in Astronomy despite their test being interrupted by the attack on Hagrid- Harry wondered if they had been forced to adjust the scores. But most surprising of all...

Harry blinked in surprise. An O in potions. That was the last thing he had expected. While he had known that his work was better than the Dreadfuls that he had consistently received from Snape throughout the year, he also knew that his work was very far behind that of Hermione. He remembered being supremely relieved with the potions on the exam as he had been familiar with all of them but he had really only expected an Exceeding Expectations at best.

And then there was Defense. He had gotten O along with a special recognition. That also came as a surprise. He had felt confident in getting the top grade in that subject but he had not realized that there was something above Outstanding.

"Of course I knew that I would do well but the examiners are obviously biased, an EE in Transfiguration? That is absurd," Malfoy was grousing. He had boasted loudly that he had gotten in O in Potions and Charms as well. He was smirking at Harry, challenging him to show him to show that his grades were not as good as the Pureblood Slytherin. Malfoy had a habit of trying to remind Harry of his 'place' in the grand scheme of things.

Harry briefly flashed to one of the first mornings at the Manor when Draco had used his wand to summon a book.

" _You're going to risk expulsion from Hogwarts for a stupid summoning charm?" Harry asked, honestly confused, looking sidelong at Snape to see what the man had to say. A look of annoyance had crossed his face but nothing more, adding to Harry's confusion._

 _Draco looked up with a smug look, "oh right. You got into all that trouble for using magic in a muggle neighborhood. Well... those of us from proper Wizarding Families know that the Ministry can't really tell what wand cast a spell. Which means that as long as you live with the right people, you can practice magic all you want." Draco's eyes glinted cruelly and Harry felt a swell of injustice. He had never heard this rule before and he knew for a fact that none of the Weasley children knew it either. Neville had also mentioned the constraints of not being able to use magic over the holidays and knew that his grandmother enforced the law. It came as no surprise that the Malfoys didn't care about such things. Clamping down on his own anger at the injustice of the trial he had been forced to attend for saving his own soul against Dementors while Draco Malfoy was free to do as he liked and turned to his immediate concern- taking the arrogant sod down a peg._

 _Harry laughed, "no wonder you get so jealous of Hermione. You get an extra two months to practice and she still does every spell better than you. It must be really frustrating to see someone that has natural talent do things so easily when you have to work for it." Strangely, Snape had merely raised an eyebrow, his expression as unreadable as always, but he had never scolded Harry for his insulting the other boy._

Harry was quiet, refusing to rise to Malfoy's latest bait an still unable to believe that he had managed to get all of his requirements. He had never considered himself a particularly strong student. While certainly competent in practical magic, he had always hated Theory and lacked the patience to improve in it. He remembered his career meeting with McGonagall and her impassioned defense of him, her pledge to help him in becoming an Auror and was glad that he had not disappointed her from the start.

"And finally a day that I have been awaiting for five years. The happy day you and I officially part ways Potter. It is certainly a shame that the Auror Department will not consider any candidates without a NEWT in Potions. Not to fear, security for Azkaban has looser requirements, you can still work in law enforcement."

Harry raised his eyes slowly from his letter, an uncharacteristically cocky grin on his face, he could see a flit of surprise and then anger on Snape's face and Harry knew that he was reminding the man of his father. For once Harry didn't care- if Snape could identify that the look was unusual he should notice that it was generally absent. In the past months Harry had made peace with his father's teenage antics but he knew that he was not his father and resented that Snape could never separate the two of them in his mind.

"Sorry professor it looks like the dream continues," Harry said, holding out his results for the man to see.

"You. You received an Outstanding in Potions?" Snape asked, his tone a mixture of suspicion and clear bafflement. Harry smirked, allowing himself to feel truly proud for once. He knew that the professor couldn't accuse him of cheating- there was no way to cheat on the OWLs- and he had worked long and hard hours to get that grade. Studying his scar burning and prickling relentlessly and Voldemort's emotions upsetting any sense of balance. He had earned this and he was not going to let anyone take that feeling from him.

Malfoy, of course, zeroed in on the most relevant information to him. "You actually got a T in History of Magic? I didn't think that they actually gave those out!"

"I was a bit distracted by watching the last of my family being murdered by your aunt and her half-blood boyfriend," Harry retorted, there was cold fury in his veins as he recalled that agonizing vision. The feeling of his scar burning for the next hours as he struggled to get to Sirius, falsely giving him the impression that his godfather was in constant pain.

"What half-blood?" Malfoy asked.

"Oh yeah, that's right, I forgot that 'the Dark Lord' doesn't like to share his secrets with the rest of you the way he does with me. He does like a nice monologue before he tries to kill you. Shame you don't get the same attention for serving him without question as you do for being his enemy."

"That's enough!" Snape snarled. His lips bloodless as they pulled back into a sneer. "I have warned you before about speaking of the Dark Lord."

Harry said nothing to this, reframing from pointing out that he had in fact not said Voldemort's name this time but instead was interested in Snape's reaction. It seemed as though he was still a bit on edge from the meeting the night before and he had to wonder if Voldemort had been particularly aggressive towards his little minions.

"Back to the point, you mean to tell me that you actually received an Outstanding. In potions." Snape deadpanned, still in shock.

"And they said surviving the Killing Curse was impossible," Malfoy muttered. "Potter really is full of surprises."

Harry glanced back at his parchment to the special honor in Defense, wondering exactly what that would mean. He was almost tempted to ask Snape but the man had never answered a question that Harry had had before and he hated to show the man that he was ignorant of yet another thing. Hermione would know, he could ask her on the train.

Malfoy had already opened his next letter, none-too-subtly holding up the Quidditch Captain's badge inside. There was a moment of longing on the Slytherin's face that piqued Harry's interest before Malfoy surprised him. "I don't think that I should really be playing Quidditch this year. Don't you think Severus?" he asked pointedly.

"Actually no, I don't. I think that you should consider the advantages of this position to your future as well as the skills that you will improve by being part of an athletic team this year. Opportunity is not something that should be easily discarded Draco," Snape responded with careful emphasis on his words. Reluctantly- because he hated whenever Snape was right about anything- Harry found himself agreeing with his words. Opportunities were not something that could easily be found again once they had been given up, and as a person that knew all too well what it felt like to lack opportunity in the first place Harry found himself wary of losing anything that might be to his advantage.

Harry opened his own letter without enthusiasm, though that changed when he found his own Captain's badge in the letter with a short note from McGonagall telling him that she was pleased to inform him that his 'lifetime ban' had been lifted and that she found him to be most qualified person for the job. A feeling of pride filled Harry. Quidditch had been the first thing in Harry's life that he had ever felt that he was truly good at and to be recognized for that skill meant more to him than he thought anyone realized. He was usually remembered for an event that he barely remembered except for the terror of hearing his mother being murdered, and magic that he could not hope to replicate- but Quidditch was something all his own. To Harry there had been nothing sweeter than hearing those words from Sirius' mouth

 _...Except for the times I went to see the Quidditch. You fly as well as your father._

"Looks like I'll be seeing you on the pitch Malfoy. May the best team win."

Malfoy scowled but after the initial disappointment there was a spark in his eye. Hidden amusement as though he knew something that Harry didn't know. Perhaps knew that Harry wouldn't be there to be Quidditch Captain?

Harry narrowed his eyes but Snape was quick to put an end to their bickering.

"Potter, I never finished addressing your blatant disregard for civilized behavior. You are not running around Gryffindor Tower where I have no doubt that you and your compatriots routinely devolve into senseless violence to solve your problems. Nor are we at your muggle relations where Merlin could only imagine what kind of behavior goes on."

Harry glared back at Snape. While he knew that he shouldn't have lost his temper he could not believe that a man from the House that routinely turned out Death Eaters was lecturing Gryffindors on 'senseless violence'. He had seen enough through Voldemort's mind to know that the man thrived on it. Harry also noted that Snape's eyes narrowed briefly as he mentioned the Dursleys and though his tone was just as derisive as usual there was a hint of curiosity in the man's black eyes that surprised him. He might have been reading too much into it but for a moment it almost felt as though Snape actually wanted Harry to elaborate on exactly 'what kind of behavior' went on in the modest home on Privet Drive. While Malfoy might have missed the article on his birthday, it was clear that Snape had not.

"You will be tidying the garden for the rest of the day. I have a list by the back shed that will be complete by sundown- no excuses. I meant what I said about only leaving this house to fulfill your commitment to Madame Littlefold. Each evening you will work on your school assignments. If you claim to be finished with any of your subjects I want to see them- I have seen your idea of a completed task and the definition is sorely lacking. You lack discipline and focus and it is high time that someone corrected that."

"Yes sir," Harry answered stiffly. There was only a week left until they returned to Hogwarts, there wasn't much that the professor could do at this point now that physical punishment seemed to be off the table, even if the man decided to start denying him meals again Harry had enough food stashed away to survive fairly comfortably but it still pained him to think that Jimmy Evans seemed to making a premature departure.

HPHPHPHP

Harry was uncomfortable. He had only worn dress robes for only one other occasion and though he knew that they were traditional, he could not escape the feeling that they were awkward and showy. At least his school robes blended in with the crowd- everyone dressed in the same concealing black, only the crests on the front differentiating between Houses. These were designed to standout and Harry was at least relieved that his muted blue eyes and dark brown hair were not as striking in his navy blue robes as his green eyes had seemed in the emerald robes that Mrs. Weasley had bought him two years prior. The robes that he had bought in town with the money that he had earned from working for Madame Littlefold were simple but attractive and Harry was once again proud of the fact that he had bought them with the money that he had earned himself. When he adjusted his outfit in the small bathroom down the hall from his servant-type quarters, Harry had been rather pleasantly surprised to find that he had filled out more than usual. He had grown a few inches and was now creeping up on 6 feet. He was no longer the smallest person in his class, though he was the shortest of the boys. He had also managed to put on a healthy amount of weight over the years and was no longer as scrawny as he had been even last year when the stress of his day to day life and the never-ending pain of his scar had curbed his appetite almost dangerously. There were a few times when Hermione's bossy nature was a very good thing and her constant pressure to eat more was something that Harry was reluctantly grateful. Never one to turn down the opportunity to actually consume food that was given him intentionally, his lack of appetite had alternately concerned and frustrated him. However, somehow in the past months Harry had grounded himself. Though the visions were still coming a few nights each week, the overall amount of pain in his scar had diminished, and the other times Harry had almost gotten used to it.

Even though living with two people that he hated him and hated him in return was unpleasant, it was easier than hundreds of eyes staring and a constant stream of whispers behind his back. The fact that he had been able to get out of the house so much had been helpful too. The last few days had been difficult. While able to go to work, he had to come straight back and Snape had been serious about performing his homework in full view of the man. It tense and uncomfortable and Harry wasn't even able to look at the books that he truly wanted to study- his parent's individual journals and the potion's book with the notes by HBP, because he was worried that Snape would confiscate anything that reminded him of Harry's parents- who Snape had openly despised. Harry had been pleased to find that Snape had been unable to criticize his homework, which he had done with uncharacteristic diligience and after the man was not able to come up with a good enough reason to make him re-do it, Harry had been free to study his Defense books. He was desperate to try out what he had been studying and wondered if Ron would be willing to spend their first free period at Hogwarts in the Room of Requirement with him. He knew Hermione would be anxious to study but Harry had no idea how many electives Hermione would try and take, despite NEWT level students generally having more off periods than the younger students. The past three days had passed by quicker than he had expected and now there was an unexpected change in routine.

Snape had bluntly informed him only the day before that he was expected to attend a party at Dimitri Anghelescu's house. Harry was not familiar with the man personally but he knew that he was a man of about 26 and considerable wealth. Or rather he _looked_ to be about 26- Dimitri and his family were vampires. Harry was had been surprised at all to learn that Snape kept company with vampires- the décor of the Prince family home certainly lent itself to some of the wilder Hogwart's rumors- but he had been vaguely surprised that he was expected to attend the party as well. After all Harry had made it through the past month by playing by Dursley rules, and those were clear when it came to company., distance yourself immediately and pretend there was no association between himself and the household.

It also made him suspicious. Draco's look of anxious anticipation had become nearly obsessive, making Harry think that whatever it was that Malfoy was waiting for, was quickly approaching. The fact that Harry had no idea what to look for, or how invested Snape was in helping Malfoy with his plan, had begun to make him feel jumpy and paranoid. Dumbledore had been clear in his assurances that Snape was on their side, according to the Headmaster Harry had nothing to fear. But after five years of mutual distrust between the two, it was hard for Harry to trust that the man was not neck deep in whatever it was that his young Slytherin had planned. The only thing that Harry knew for sure was the Snape was double-crossing someone and he found it highly arrogant of both Dumbledore and Voldemort to assume that the man's loyalty would be assured to one while lying to the other. Despite accusations to the contrary- Harry had never been able to afford to be arrogant.

The Anghelescu estate was on the other side of town and it was clear that it commanded not only wealth but power among the vampires. Harry did not know much about vampires outside of his Third Year textbook and considering what the text had had to say about werewolves, he had a suspicion that while not inaccurate it was vastly oversimplified. Snape had told him on the morning of his birthday that Crescent Nest was home to one of the largest communities in Britain but he hadn't realized how loyal and close knit the clan seemed to be with one another. He supposed that he shouldn't have been surprised- Vampires lived for centuries, why wouldn't they be loyal to one another after so much time?

Harry had been a bit surprised to learn that the idea of a vampire being immortal was not accurate. Apparently even the undead could not escape death forever. Most vampires lived for about four to five centuries before they started to 'wither' and eventually they too succumbed to the 'next great adventure' as Dumbledore had once called it. From what little Harry had gleamed from Snape and Malfoy prior to coming, Dimitri's father Alexi had been the head of the family for the past three centuries but his time was growing short and Dimitri was nothing short of elated to finally gain control over the family affairs- after a hundred and fifty years of training and waiting Harry supposed anyone might grow impatient.

Harry's impression thus far had left much to be desired. Dimitri was a cold, calculating man that seemed to have much to prove. He was not overly surprised to find that Draco seemed to find in him a kindred spirit- the Malfoy Heir had been out to prove his worth since the day that Harry had met him. The Anghelescu's, Harry had learned, were what was referred to as 'Born vampires', they were more rare and held more prestige than the traditional 'Turned' vampires that muggles were more familiar with. The man difference being that Born vampires actually possessed shreds of humanity. They could also do magic. The Turned Vampires had been either wizards or muggles that had been bitten- either by other Turned vampires or Born Vampires- and transformed into something less than their former selves. Their humanity was stripped, and if they were magical, their magic was as well. In return they were faster, stronger and their other senses were enhances as well. Born vampires grew up from childhood, though at a slower pace than any human, and though their morals were notorious for being callous and cold, they did possess compassion and a conscience. They were intensely magical beings but the range and type of spells that they were capable of was vastly different than most wizards. They excelled in the Dark Arts in particular which had led to as much prejudice against them as Parselmouths faced.

Harry had nervously entered the ornate foyer of the mansion after having received numerous lectures on propriety and etiquette from a combination of Snape and a smirking Malfoy that could not hide his delight at discovering that Harry had never been invited to a formal event like this before. For his part, Harry was grateful that at least it was an evening affair and not a dinner party as well- he did not think he could stood to have sat through a lecture of Snape and Malfoy going over what was expected of him for each course. Instead it was merely a matter of proper greetings, forms of address and a constant stream of reminders from Snape that he had best be on his best behavior or else 'no entity or Headmaster on this Earth will be able to protect you from my wrath' he was promised.

Thus far Harry had found the evening more... enlightening than he had expected. While not particularly interesting and not at all fun, Harry had managed to learn quite a bit about some of the other Wizarding families as well as a bit about the standing of the vampire community. Outside of Crescent Nest, vampires had little to no rights and were officially classified as 'Dark Creatures', something that, Harry had learned, deeply offended many of the Born Vampires as they had a certain code of honor that was deeply part of their culture.

On the other hand the night had also been an endless source of frustration, the Pureblood families had proven to be just as close-minded and prejudicial towards Harry's- or rather Jimmy Evan's- perceived limited magical abilities their children had been. While this had not precluded them from including him in a bit of their conversations, Harry had noticed that many of them had a habit of speaking down to him as though being a registered squib with very limited magical abilities had affected his ability to think and reason.

Despite the annoyance of their condescending attitudes the conversations had not all been dull. He had picked up more than one person commenting on the impressive sight of the new shop of Diagon Alley. Apparently the Grand Opening of Weasley Wizarding Wheezes had gone off in truly spectacular fashion and the shop had been crowded ever since. Harry felt a pang that he would be unable to see the twin's dream turned into reality. He more than anyone knew what it meant to them to be able to open their own shop and hoped that their mother had put aside her disappointment in their refusal to attain more traditional jobs and had gone to see the launch of the store. After Percy had decided that being a bootlicking prat to the Minister was more admirable than staying loyal to a family that had supported and loved him his whole life, Harry knew that in spite of everything it must hurt Mrs. Weasley to be at odds with anymore of her children. He respected the twins for going forth with their dream in spite of any and all obstacles and was happy beyond words that they were being greeted by early success.

He was even more surprised to hear a number of guests speculate as to whether or not the two young entrepreneurs had a secret backer and if they did, who the identity could be. Several people had connected the fact that it was very expensive to create so many products and rent out a prime location for a storefront from two boys from a large but poor family and the guesses of who might have helped them were wild and rather humorous. The pervading opinion was either Madame Rosemarta of the Three Broomsticks or else Florean Fortescue from the ice cream shop in Diagon Alley- both successful business owners that were known to look for keen investments from what one person had coined 'a diverse portfolio'.

After several long drawn out explanations of the inner workings of the latest Wizengamot vote, the conversation took a decidedly more interesting turn.

"So, Severus, so glad that you could make it this evening. We know how much you dread these...social occasions," an older witch said.

"Yes well as much as I do value your company, I have many other obligations that must be met as well," Snape answered stiffly but with more politeness than Harry had ever heard from the man before. He wondered idly if the woman was rich. Or an influential former Slytherin.

"Tell us Severus," the woman said a bit louder, garnering more people's attention. "We've simply been dying to know and you're one of the few people in a position to really tell us, what do you make of this rumor about Harry Potter being the Chosen One?"

Harry stiffened but worked to keep his face neutral, instead he settled for a look of polite interest, as though he too wondered whether or not his 16 year old 'classmate' was in fact the person that was supposed to finish off Voldemort for everyone.

Snape's eyes flicked to Harry's ever so briefly in warning, in fact Harry was absolutely certain that he was the only one that noticed the movement, when he answered his voice was careless, a man discussing a juicy bit of gossip that could not concern him in the slightest.

"While I have never been a believer in supposed prophesy or Divination to begin with," Snape began, his usual harsh tone returning slightly. Harry wondered if the mere act of explaining something made Snape think of teaching and he instantly became more unpleasant. "I find this theory even more absurd than the usual drivel that the mystic arts produce. I have taught Harry Potter for five years and the word 'average' would be considered a compliment to describe his work. He has never shown the slightest aptitude for anything that would be considered special or impressive magic. In fact the only way Potter would be a credible threat to anyone is if he were able to manifest his own enormous ego into its own fighting entity. Sheer size alone would intimate even the most powerful of opponents," Snape sneered and Harry inwardly seethed.

It galled him that the man felt the need to humiliate him in a room full of strangers that were not even aware that Harry was actually present to hear these comments. People who had never met him before were listening to idle gossip about his poor class performance. For the first time it occurred to Harry that all over the Wizarding world people were probably having similar conversations. Gathering together, wondering if 'Harry Potter' was going to save them all. Wondering what his plans were to defeat the You-Know-Who, and more than likely complaining that he wasn't doing enough. After a year of being called a liar and having his sanity called into question by these same people- he was expected to lay down his life to protect them. They weren't even asking if they thought that Harry would actually fight- they had already determined that it would be his job- they were only concerned with how successful he could be.

"Oh Severus, don't disregard prophesies so easily. They have a strange way of working out, usually in a way you least expect them to. If the Potter boy really is named in a prophesy against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, I certainly hope that your assessment about him is wrong," an older man that was leaning on a long staff commented. His voice was gravelly with age and there was a spark of intelligence in his eyes that concerned Harry. This was not idle talk, but a comment made with forethought and belief. Harry had been trying to wrap his head around the idea of the prophesy all summer and once again he was reminded of the strong forces of fate guiding him towards a destiny that he was powerless to avoid. Before the prophesy it had always seemed it to be his choice to fight Voldemort. A job he was eager to do if no other reason than to ensure that other people did not suffer as he had, now fighting Voldemort had taken on new meaning. There was no back-up. No knowledge that if he failed, someone else would win against the monster. It was all on Harry to win or lose.

"Well personally I think it's rather appalling that the boy hasn't even made a public statement about all this, don't you?" a younger woman chimed in. She ran a small café in town and up until this moment Harry had always found her pleasant and welcoming. "My cousin Elven works for the Ministry and he told me that the Minister tried to get the boy to work with them and he refused. Can you believe that? Just shot them straight down. As if he's too good to work with the Ministry!"

"They should have forced him to train with them," another man said as several people nodded, muttering comments about how 'Potter had a responsibility to fulfill'.

"Well I don't think we can blame the poor boy if he's scared," an older woman said hesitantly.

"What does he have to be scared of? He's the only one that has the ability to stop him!"

"Which means that he doesn't get to be scared like the rest of you?" Harry finally asked loudly, his temper finally giving way. Snape was glaring at him, his eyes shooting furious signals for Harry to shut up but now that he finally had a chance to say something to the very people that had made his life hell for the past two years he was not going to give it up easily. The people that had been writing to the _Daily Prophet_ sprouting their opinion on matters that either never concerned them or which they had no real knowledge. There were several scoffs and unpleasant mutterings as people instantly defended themselves against the accusation of being scared.

"I don't see the rest of you training to fight in a war or making plans to stop Voldemort." There were several gasps and Snape looked as though it was taking all of his restraint not to curse him right then and there.

"I would be careful with saying that name!"

"Why because I'm practically a squib?" Harry challenged, "at least I'm not hiding behind little nicknames for a man that won't even use his real name. Everyone here is so quick to say what 'Harry Potter' should do, but I don't see anyone else volunteering to do anything."

"It's Potter's responsibility..."

"Why is that? Because supposedly there's a prophesy that no one's even heard?" Harry asked. "Its not anymore his responsibility than it is everyone else's."

"You know you must know Potter, you're about the same age..." one man said shrewdly.

Harry shrugged but he was quickly regretting his outburst. He wasn't prepared for this. He had never spoken of the war with anyone outside of Ron and Hermione and a few of the Order members- and with the Order members his information had been severely limited.

"What do you think his chances are?"

"Do you think we're all screwed?" There was an odd kind of relish in the woman's voice. And Harry was horrified to realize that she was strangely excited about the idea of the worst happening. She was a person that clearly couldn't even contemplate the full implications of what she was saying. To her it was merely fun speculation. The Chosen One- a 16 year old boy with a fate greater than them all- against the most even Dark Wizard any of them had ever, or would ever know. It was fanciful. Romantic even, perhaps. She had not lost her parents or godfather. She had not watched a young boy with the promise of being a great wizard be murdered by a madman that was simply too busy to contemplate the fact that his life had value. The worst wouldn't _really_ happen. Everything would be fine because other people would take care of it. The fact that none of them were willing to accept any responsibility for the war galled him. Sirius had given his life for these people. Fought against Voldemort and Death Eaters even after the Wizarding World had thrown him in Azkaban for 12 years without so much as a trial. Had they even interrogated him? Had one person even questioned the fact that a man that had spent years fighting against the Dark Arts and his darker family had suddenly been discovered as a traitor? No. Because it had been too much trouble. He was tired of the Wizarding World wanting the easiest solutions and refusing to look at the hard facts and truths. He was tired of them all waiting around for a savior instead of even trying to save themselves.

Harry took a breath. "I think he's going to fight and if he dies at least he'll know that he actually fought instead of living day after day regretting the fact that he stood by and let others fight while he stood by and did nothing," Harry answered with a glare.

Snape was snarling at him and in that moment he grabbed his arm and led him away from the crowd.

"Have you lost all of your senses completely?" he hissed, pure venom in his voice. "I know the thought of no one singing your praises for an evening is horrifying to you but what part of discretion are you incapable of?"

"I didn't let them know it was me!" Harry snarled back, his own voice barely above a whisper, his heart racing a bit from the anger at what they were all saying. "They're the ones sitting around casually talking about whether or not Voldemort is going to murder me."

Snape's black eyes were fathomless, his skin a chalky white and for a moment Harry felt as though the Potion's Master that had tormented him for five long years actually felt some sort of emotion other than pure distain. And then it was gone.

"As usual you lack any sense of control! You possess no ability to filter your thoughts or control what you do or say. And now your recklessness has carried over into encouraging other innocent people to step out into the fray against known killers. Tell me Potter, do you think every common witch or wizard in the world is prepared to do battle against trained, ruthless Death Eaters?"

"I think every witch or wizard that has graduated from Hogwarts is capable of casting a few protective charms and actually thinking for themselves instead of following around whatever story or person is most convenient for them! They are all so worried about who is going to fix their problems for them that they don't even think about actually helping themselves!"

Snape glared at him, but for the first time in living memory did not comment. Instead he spun quickly on his heel and left. Harry went in the other direction, breathing hard, his face hot and flushed, he did not have any intention of going back to a conversation that appeared to be on the verge of taking bets on his own mortality.

He ambled aimlessly for a bit, carefully avoiding quite a few people from the pub Saturday night, until he found himself suddenly surrounded by Malfoy and the other three people that he wanted to see least in the world at the moment.

"Evans! Surprised to see you here. I would have thought that they would make you hang out with the muggles. Or the servants," Derrick Hadran snorted. Harry said nothing but glanced warily around to see that he was in a lot of trouble if they decided that they wanted to get physical, once again he found himself outnumbered and Snape was within fifty feet of him which meant if he tried to defend himself there was a good chance the man would stop him. The fact that Smith was still sporting his bruises from the other night was both surprising as they could have easily been healed with magic and concerning. They were here for revenge.

Draco was smirking at him with the confidence born of knowing that he had the upper hand once again.

"Well Snape lets me hang out with all the proper witches and wizards as long as I remember to bow extra low and try to pay attention. Its so hard to talk to people without magic though. I wish everyone would just stop using such big words, without special spells it must just be impossible to do anything," Harry answered with dripping sarcasm.

Surprisingly Smith gave a brief snort of laughter and Angelus Blake did not even bother to hide his clear amusement. Derrick's eyes glinted cruelly and he spoke with vicious delight.

"Well it's not very often that we have something in common Evans, but I thought you might like to know that your little girlfriend from the other night is... familiar with more than just you. Wouldn't want you to be under the impression that you're anything special. Reggie is a little slut that will spend time with anyone that gives her a second glance," Derrick smirked. "The two of us had a hell of a night a few weeks ago."

Harry's first instinct was to raise the wand that he had stashed on the inside sleeve of dress robes and curse the pompous ponce into next the closest dung heap. Instead he forced himself to remain calm, the only change in his expression was a lift of his right eyebrow. "I'm not sure how you claiming to be such poor company that any woman that wants to spend time with you must be a slut is insulting to _Reggie._ She's fantastic. She's beautiful, she can run circles around you on the field and she's got a great sense of humor. If the worst thing about her is that she's unable to see that you're a piece of trash that doesn't deserve her time than I guess it's nice to know she isn't perfect. Reggie is free to see whoever she likes and the fact that she would give you the time of day makes you luckier than you deserve," Harry threw back at them.

Harry had not had a lot of experience with girls or dating but he knew enough from the other boys at school to know that they felt no regret about dating around or even fooling around with a few different girls at a time. If they were keen to change partners, it stood to reason that the other half of that partnership should get the same consideration. Harry liked Reggie. She was fun and laid back in a way that he rarely got be but somehow she did not get frustrated that he was obviously not as easy going as most of the other boys. In fact she seemed to delight in getting him to relax even a little bit. But he also enjoyed spending time with Elena- who was mysterious and witty and sent a thrill of reckless excitement down his spine every time she smiled at him. Neither of these girls had expected much from him and Harry had tried hard to respect both of them by being honest with his intentions and considerate with his actions. The fact that anyone would insult Reggie for consenting to spend her time with them was insulting.

Jackson Smith shook his head before shocking Harry by sticking out his hand, "You know you're alright Evans." Both Derrick and Malfoy looked at the other boy as though he had lost his mind and for a second Harry felt the same. The fact that the hand that was held out still had broken skin over the very same knuckles that had relentless hit him only a few days previously. Harry shot him a questioning, skeptical look and the Hufflepuff had the decency to blush. "Er... my parents really tore into me about the other night. To be honest with you, it rightly pissed them off that a squib was telling me off about doing the right thing and I didn't really have a leg to stand on. I shouldn't have had a go at Travis... and I shouldn't have goaded you into a fight that you knew that you couldn't win."

Harry frowned at the way that Smith and his parents thought of squibs and muggles- feeling that not only were they physically weaker because they couldn't do magic but somehow their judgement was affected as well. Harry had never given much thought to how squibs were treated, he had only known Filch whose sour dispassion and unpleasant personality were only surpassed by Snape in the castle, and Mrs. Figg who had always struck him as slightly strange and perhaps a bit annoying but that had been his impression of her when he thought her an ordinary muggle. He wondered if most squibs stayed in contact with the magical world, he didn't think that he would want to. Not only were they forced to see a world full of people that could do such extraordinary things that they could never do, but they were then treated as though they were somehow stupid or incompetent simply because they hadn't been born with a special gift.

Perhaps the thing that bothered him the most was his own naivety- he had assumed that for the most part the only people that would treat squibs the way he had been treated all night would be Death Eaters or people like Umbridge who no morals or conscience. Instead he had seen how prejudiced perfectly normal and even nice people could be and it depressed him. Fighting against the ideas of someone like Voldemort seemed easy- the man was a sociopath and any rational person would know not to believe in anything that he says. But fighting against these ingrained feelings of ignorance and false superiority suddenly seemed impossible. It occurred to Harry- for the first time- why it had been so easy for Voldemort to gain followers and how hard it had been to truly recover from the devastation that he had caused in the First War. Perhaps the Wizarding World had never really recovered- or in a particularly bleak view- perhaps it had always been damaged.

Harry shook Smith's hand with what he hoped was well hidden reluctance. Admitting that he was wrong to pick on Travis was a start and Harry wasn't about to anger the boy into thinking that he had been right the first time. "Thanks for saying that," Harry nodded at the boy's bruised face. "I would have thought you would have healed that up by now."

The other boy grimaced. He was of-age and could do magic without penalty so there was seemingly no reason for the bruises to be there. "My father's idea. He told me let them heal naturally like Travis has to after his dad went after him and then see if I feel like making fun of him," Jackson gave a rueful smile, "I have to give muggles credit, these still hurt like a bitch and they have to put up with it without any potions or healing spells. Never really thought about how tough muggles have to be."

Harry nodded, he remembered as a kid people commenting on how fast he used to heal from a bruise or a scrap. The school nurse had once told him that she thought he must have a superpower- it was the closest thing to a compliment an adult had ever given him up until that point in his life. He had never really understood why they were so surprised until he had found out that magic must have helped him quite a bit.

"Are you kidding me with this?" Hadran asked his tone one of disgust. "You're suddenly all friendly with him just because your parents got upset about the fight?" Malfoy said nothing but his expression was one of curiosity. He seemed more interested than truly upset that the Hufflepuff had apologized for the fight and Harry found himself wondering where the boy's normal hostility had gone.

Smith turned to face his friend, his expression defensive. "I can admit when someone has guts- and taking on a group of wizards that outnumbered him physically and magically had guts."

"The fact that Evans is a loose-cannon with a temper problem doesn't meant that he's anything special. He was an idiot to fight all of us and he's damn lucky that we got pulled off him before anyone did serious damage. And even luckier that we were in front of muggles and couldn't use magic."

Harry said nothing, his stance steady and his gaze unblinking.

Jackson eyed him up and down for a moment before grinning, "stupid is thinking that he could have won. Evans stood up for Travis even when he knew it was a bad idea. It's too bad that you weren't in Hufflepuff- we appreciate that kind of loyalty. But I guess with recklessness like that you must be a Gryffindor. No wonder no one really remembers you at Hogwarts, the only person that anyone pays any attention to in Gryffindor is Harry Potter."

Harry shot him a smirk. It had been endlessly amusing listening to people assume which House he belonged to. It had actually been Snape that given him a rare piece of advice. No doubt born out years of being a spy for two powerful wizards, the man had told him that the best way to avoid any suspicion was to allow people to fill in the picture of Jimmy Evans for themselves. Hogwarts was small enough that people knew or at least recognized almost everyone in their own House but large enough so that they often didn't know people from other Houses. When people met Jimmy Evans they were automatically assuming that he had not been in whichever House they belonged to, but the really interesting part had been listening to them assume where he belonged. He had been called a Hufflepuff, a Ravenclaw and now- strangely for the first time- a Gryffidnor. One person had even asked if he had been a Slytherin. Magical power was no indicator of House and the person had been worried that if he had belonged to the House the valued magical heredity the most than he would have lost most of his friends.

"That's alright, I prefer keeping a low profile anyway."

"Listen I know we got off on the wrong foot but-"

Harry would never know what the older boy had been about to say because he was suddenly cut off by a terrified scream. Panic. Chaos. People had started running for the exits. And Harry was pulling out his wand before he was even sure of the threat.

And then he felt the chilling cold. Dementors. Everywhere. And just as he heard the rattling breath of the feared creature Harry heard another chilling sound. Howls. Dozens of them- close and filled with vicious intent.

They were under attack.

 **A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews. I have gotten such a good response so far and I'm pleased that people seem to like my twist on the Snape/Harry dynamic. Big action next chapter!**


	12. The Power

**Warning: Fairly violent and a some graphic descriptions of violence**

 **Chapter 12: The Power**

Harry felt them before he could properly see them but he knew the feeling immediately. Dementors were quickly approaching the manor and from the screams of panic from outside the grand estate it was clear that they had already been working their way through the village. There was a wall of large windows that opened out onto the grounds and Harry could make out the dark creatures gliding forward, stopping only to feast on the unsuspecting muggles that were unable to identify the threat that they were under.

Distantly, Harry could hear screams of a fiercer more awful nature and he knew that his own worst memories were about to close in on him. His mother's voice in his mind begging not for her own life, but for his. Despair gripped him, a void of darkness that seemed to stretch without respite and Harry felt hope slide away from him, like trying to hold sand through open fingers.

There were at least a hundred of them and they seemed to be coming from every direction. There was a shout and large powerful bang. Rumble falling. The Dementors had not come alone, they were being guided by wizards. The idea of wizards being able to walk alongside these terrible creatures turned his stomach. What did it take for a man to align himself with the embodiment of evil?

But these weren't Death Eaters like Harry had expected. They wore no singular uniform instead they were dressed in ragged robes, there hair was matted and their faces filthy as though they had been living rough for some time. Harry did not recognize any of them and after nearly a month in the small village he had thought that he had at least seen everyone by that point.

"What...no... this isn't... it wasn't supposed to..." Malfoy was babbling in panic and the only thing that Harry knew for sure was that whatever the blond had been planning, this wasn't it. The pure fear in his eyes showed that he had been caught just as off guard as the rest of them. Harry looked around but in the chaos, he didn't see Snape and wondered what the spy was doing at that moment. The fact that Malfoy was not involved in this _probably_ meant that Snape was not either- although there was always the possibility that Snape had not shared his plan with the teen and had acted alone. Harry was never prepared to rule out the possibility of Snape's betrayal.

And yet...somehow he doubted it. Harry did not trust Snape but he also didn't think that he would orchestrate a massive attack on the very people that he referred to as neighbors if not friends. There seemed to be too much risk and if there was one thing that he had learned of his Potion's professor after five years of suspecting him at him at every turn- he was not a man that dealt in risks.

This was good news, despite his own reservations of the man's character, Harry knew that Snape was half-way decent in a fight, or at least he had always assumed him to be. He remembered the confidence that the man had held during the Dueling Club back in his Second Year, though to be fair he had been fighting Gilderoy Lockhart at time. Harry had held the man at wandpoint and forced him into the Chamber of Secrets only months later at the age of 12. Perhaps not the best indicator of the man's skill...

Still, Snape at the very least had once been an active Death Eater and Sirius had told Harry that Snape had walked into Hogwarts knowing more Dark Arts than most Seventh Years. As a spy, Snape was still forced to fight on both sides and considering he had been at it so long and had yet to sustain serious bodily injury, Harry could only assume that the man did in fact possess some skill.

There was a second deafening blast and Harry coughed as dust and debris clouded the air. He opened his eyes to see three or four people bleeding heavily from the effects of the explosion. Harry backed away cautiously from exposed walls in case there was another blast but it was clear that another blast would not be necessary.

With the wall down and the wizards present in full panic, the Dementors glided in with ease. Screams rent the air, sobs followed with a haunting sadness. Harry watched as grown men and women fell to their knees, pleading with invisible forces for things to be alright. It was heart-wrenching to see. Harry could see that a few children had been present at the party and were desperately seeking reassurance from parents that were momentarily too distraught to even properly attend them.

" _Expecto Patronum_!" It was echoed through the hall as witches and wizards pulled their wands out of their robes and cloaks. Harry hesitated for only a moment, the howls that he had heard moments before suddenly sounded closer and he wasn't sure which threat was worse at the moment. If the others could hold off the Dementors, someone needed to stop the werewolves that would be on them in moments.

But the hesitation was a mistake.

Most of the people had conjured nothing more than mist, which died quickly as soon as it encountered the rasping breath of the Dementor.

... _Sirius!...Bow to Death Harry... Not Harry...Kill the Spare...No mother to die for you..._

Darkness was creeping into his vision.

"Expecto Patronum!" Harry bellowed forcing through the memory of his dream. His parents telling him that they had watched him every day of his life, that they were proud of him. Sirius telling Harry that he should live his life and enjoy it. Out of his wand erupted Prongs- brilliant and shining and stronger by far than any of the other weak imitations of patrounuses. Even those that had managed a corporeal form were not as powerful as Harry's stag as far as he could see.

Harry poured as much power as he could into his patronus, the Dementors were closing in relentlessly and he wasn't able to be everywhere at once.

"Oh Merlin..."

"Shit!"

"I thought you were a squib!" Harry heard quite a few exclamations but he ignored them for the moment. As much because he had no explanation at the moment as because he was concerned with greater things at the moment.

"Please...I'm sorry...you'll be alright... you _have_ to be alright..." Draco was pleading and whimpering as a Dementor loomed over him. Harry flicked his wand and the stag charged at the Dementor, giving Malfoy a reprieve. The blond boy was gasping for air, his former meticulously crafted appearance now in ruins. He was pale and shaking and for the first time in his life Harry felt a bit of sympathy for his arch nemesis.

He made his way over and pulled the other boy to his feet. "Malfoy..." but the Slytherin wasn't even looking at him, his eyes were glazed over and he was trapped in his own imaginings.

"Draco!" Harry said sharply, keeping one eye on the stag that was currently cantering a wide perimeter around Harry and the other boys- who were currently defenseless against the power of a real Dementor.

The blond blinked, staring at Harry as though he couldn't comprehend why or how he could be there at this moment. "Your mother is alright. She loves you- you need to think about that when you cast the spell. Do you understand? Don't think about a memory, think about the emotion and think about the fact that your mother would do anything for you." Harry was gasping himself, the darkness from the dementors clouding his thoughts, making it hard to think about what came next. He needed to focus. Sirius. His parents. That wonderful vision of a lakeside picnic with his family. He needed to remember but as he tried to keep that brilliant sunny day in his thoughts, another darker vision of a graveyard and a tauntingly inviting veil were also present in his thoughts, pushing away his happiness. Reminding him that his nightmares were real while his dreams were just that...pure fantasy.

"Ex- expect... Expecto patronum!" Malfoy shouted and this time a thin white mist appeared. Formless and weak it did not drive any of the Dementors away but it managed to at least create a thin barrier between its caster and his doom.

"ARH-WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO" They were there. Dozens of large, hulking beasts standing side by side with witches and wizards that were firing spells at the glass wall of windows, breaking through the protective wards that the vampires had been unable to construct properly.

"You saw it- now you do it!" Harry shouted at the other boys, panting from his own exertion, his wand arm shaking slightly. There was a scuttle of movement, when the other wizards had seen the vicious fangs from the beasts that were no more than fifty feet from them, they had frozen. Unable to defend against the soul-sucking power of the dark creatures currently leaching all of their hope and draining away all happiness. Harry's call had a least grabbed a few people's attention and they hurried to cast the spell. The cries were echoed around the room and white mist surrounded them, barely more than a pre-dawn fog.

"Group together!" Harry shouted. They were too spread out, the dementors were picking them off one by one or else driving the panicking people out into the open where the werewolves were waiting. They needed to form a solid perimeter and use their collective shields to protect each other. But Harry's voice was drowned out by the screams of terror and the sounds of stampeding crowd. No one was listening to Jim Evans, supposed squib that only a few people had seen was responsible for the most powerful patronus in the room.

"Why aren't they attacking _them_?" Smith shouted in terror, pointing at the allies of the werewolves.

Malfoy was frantically shaking his head in confusion and fear, his feeble attempt at a patronus flickering in and out. Snape was still on the other side of the hall and Harry had not seen him. He wondered if the man was even capable of producing a patronus- idly wondering if the man had ever experienced anything happy enough to produce the emotion required.

"Wolfsbane," Harry answered grimly, still pouring all of his power into the spell. "They're fully in control of themselves."

And it was true. Harry had only caught a brief glimpse of Lupin's pure werewolf form before Sirius had succeeded in driving him away but the memory of the sheer madness of the werewolf- of a creature that was rabid for any kind of prey- was not something that he would ever forget. Lupin was a man that was generally incredibly self-possessed and slow to anger but in that moment any gleam of sanity had been obliterated. The wolves out on the lawn that were slowly advancing as the cracks in the window grew faster than they were able to repair magically had a spark of intelligence in their eyes that was disturbing.

They had planned this.

The panic had increased and no one had listened to Harry's command to group together behind their collective mists aside from Malfoy and a few of the boys from the football team. They had seen Harry's patronus and none of them were willing to move too far from him.

" _Reducto_!" there was shout and finally the wall had broken and in came the flood of blood thirsty beasts.

" _Incendio_!" Harry cried, a wall of fire blasting forward from his wand. It was stronger than any _incendio_ he had ever cast before, his fear and desperation fueling his magic further than the usual limits. Harry found himself feeling strangely grateful that the werewolves were in control of their thoughts. They had not been manipulated or had gotten out accidentally. These were not people that would feel horrible in the morning that they had attacked innocent witches and wizards. They had set out to attack and now Harry had no qualms about defending himself- with as much force as needed. Werewolves that were transformed were highly resistant to magic- one of the reasons why they were so feared in the magical community- but fire was something that few beasts could walk away from unscathed. There was a howl of agonizing pain and Harry knew that at least one was down.

But in casting the fire at the werewolves he had been forced to drop his patronus and now the hopeless despair of the Dementors was closing in on him.

 _Neither can live while the other survives...worthless, freak...NOT HARRY!...And either must die at the hand of the other..._

For a moment Harry thought that he saw doe prancing alongside his own stag in front of him, white and glittery it was not quite as bright as own stag but there was a beauty to it that he felt was quite different from own. It was impossible but in the next instant it was gone. He shook his head to clear it.

"We...we have to get out of here..." Harry muttered his thoughts running a mile a minute. The strange thought occurred to him that it was too bad that Dementors didn't get confused like boggarts- who could only change into one thing at a time and were easier to take down when they were forced to change gears too often. With the amount of bad memories that Harry had, one would think that the Dementors would get confused or simply overworked, but instead the Dementors seemed to delight in the challenge he presented. Glory in the terrible pain they were able to inflict.

Harry shot another _Incendio_ at the advancing enemy, this time moving forward. "We have to move!" he said again, unsure who he was even talking to. With a hole formed in the wall of enemies, Harry ran to get out of the Manor. He was not about to allow himself to be trapped between Dementors and werewolves but he quickly saw that outside was not much better. Suddenly Harry was very glad that he was in the best physical shape of his life. Naturally speedy, weeks of running and pushing himself allowed him to fly out of the rumble and head for an opening. At the moment he wasn't sure where he was trying to escape to, but even Harry recognized in that moment that it would be the height of foolishness to stand and fight against so many creatures at once. He was vaguely aware that there was at least one other person keeping pace with him, before he ran into three wizards that were ready for them.

They shot an ominous beam of red light at Harry, but he was prepared, throwing himself to the side even as he shot a stunner at his opponent. Not for the first time Harry wished he had had at least one teacher in school that had actually taught him how to properly fight. Bodies from their assorted victims were scattered around them creating a tableau of destruction.

Harry slashed with his wand, whipping it into a harsh, jagged swipe to the left and cried " _segmentum_!" The man on the left crumped with a deep slash to side and Harry didn't allow himself to dwell on the sheer amount of blood that he drawn from the curse that he had never before been able to practice casting much less use on an actual person.

There were screams from the man on the left... and laughter from his friend on the right.

"Oh alright now! Just when I thought tonight was going to be a bit boring...I didn't know we had a real fighter in town," came a mocking man's voice. Again Harry did not recognize the speaker but he knew the man looked as though he hadn't had a proper meal in weeks. He was thin and scraggly, his beard wild and unkempt. With a twist of pain Harry realized that the man reminded him a bit of Sirius the first time he had seen him- in the Shrieking Shack.

" _Stupify_!" Harry yelled.

The man easily blocked it, laughing at Harry's weak efforts, "a Stunner! It's going to take a bit more than that little boy. I thought I had a good one but I think you scared yourself a bit with that curse. Never been in a real fight, have you? Never seen a man die? This isn't Hogwarts little boy, you're going to need some bigger spells!" Laughter clashed with the screams that were now behind him at the manor and the whimpers of pain from the victims at their feet- mixing together to create a shiver of dissonance.

Harry said nothing but he was not about to let this dirty, feeble excuse for a wizard intimidate him. He narrowed his sights but didn't let that distract him from listening for other attacks. Despite what this dirty excuse for a wizard might think... this was far from Harry's first rodeo.

The man threw the Cruciatus in his direction but Harry was quicker- feinting right, he was easily able to draw the man into a quick-fire duel. Each one slashing jets of light at the other. Harry was just about to gain the upper hand... when he realized he had left his backside unguarded. Another one- this time a woman in a tight threadbare dress that exposed her bodice in such a way that in any other circumstance would have had Harry blushing terribly- was snarling at him. Harry got up at shield in time to avoid the coordinated attack. He was surprised that his shield was not only large enough to cover both sides, but strong enough to withstand both spells. Still, his momentary pride at his apparently growing dueling skills was tempered by the fact that he was officially screwed at this point.

He was outnumbered. He was up against more experienced fighters. He was _tired_.

"Serpensoria!" A voice Harry recognized called out in desperation and there lied a massive black necked spitting cobra was unleashed and suddenly- as if they had planned it all along- Harry knew what to do.

Harry hissed an instant command and the snake instant attacked, sniping at its victims with dangerous dexterity.

" _segmentum_ _!"_ Malfoy called out against another of their attacker and Harry pivoted to avoid a curse that was headed straight for him. The other boys had arrived and quickly subdued the three wizards, the fierce fighting discouraging others from coming in their direction and instead moving on to simpler targets.

Harry was on the ground. Panting from exertion, he felt his lungs burn and his muscles groan in protest at the mere thought of having to move again. He turned his head and froze. Greg Tovins, one of the first friends that he had made in the village and a boy that had a times rivaled the Weasleys twins with wit was staring blankly ahead. A husk of nothing. Empty. Harry had only seen the effects of these in pictures and books but he knew immediately what had happened. He had been given the Dementor's Kiss, a fate that Harry considered worse than death. Harry closed his eyes and tried to steady his rollercoaster of emotions. He was... so angry at that moment. Too angry to be sad. Because Greg Tovins was a good person and an average football player with the best collection of dirty magazines that Harry had ever seen. And no it was not because he had never actually had access to dirty mags before that made them the best. It wasn't right. Or fair.

And now there was nothing left. His soul was gone and there was only this empty husk behind. There were shouts from all around him. Flashes of colored lights and collisions like fireworks were in the distance but Harry stared blindly at the dead eyes of his now-former friend. He wanted to do something. Release him... trembling Harry raised his wand, unsure what he should do.

" _Segmentum_ _!"_ A sharp line crossed Greg Tovins' neck and slowly the boy's dull eyes closed one final time. Harry looked around in bewilderment only to see the man from the party who had said that it was 'Potter's responsibility' to end the war lower his wand. "It's alright lad, better truly gone than forced to live like that," he explained. He shrugged apologetically, "I would have... I can't do the Avada Kedevra- not in me. Sorry for..." he gestured to the pool of blood from the teen's neck.

Harry nodded, understanding and frankly a bit relieved that he was talking to a man that had never been able to cast the Killing Curse. It seemed as if day by day everyone he knew in the Wizarding World was pulled further and further into the war. Lupin and Sirius had once planned to use on a man that had once been like a brother to them. It was nice to think that someone could survive into middle age and never be able to work the spell.

" _you have to mean them!_ " Bellatrix had taunted him.

"Thank you."

He had stayed still to long and payed for the mistake with a curse to his left side. It hit him low, the fabric tearing at the thigh of dress robes. The attacker went in for another hit but this time Harry was prepared, " _protego_!" and the spell was flung back at caster. It was a cutting curse and the man howled in misery as his pink intestines seemed to pool out of him. Harry fought the urge not to vomit. The man may have fallen on his own metaphorical sword but it was still a terrible sight to see.

Malfoy was doing poorly, he had never been a particularly good fighter as evidenced by the fact that Harry had never seen the blond win a single altercation with anyone in school, and he was being quickly overwhelmed by a superior enemy. Acting on instinct, Harry tried his hand at another curse that he had only read about in the Auror's Manuel _\- Pretego_!

It worked essentially the same as the Shield Charm only in this case instead of the shield coming up in front of the caster it was used a block for another person. It was bit harder- requiring both more focus and power- but Harry's first attempt proved fruitful and the caster was blasted backwards just in time- the man had used a reductor curse and had it hit, would have proved fatal to the blond boy.

Harry grabbed Malfoy round the arm and pulled, "come on, there's too many of them, we have to move!" They were further away from the main action than most but as more and more victims fell the werewolves were moving outwards. They had little time before the beasts would be on them.

"Please...please..." a small sobbing voice caught Harry's attention and he practically growled as he saw a grown man bearing down upon a girl that had to be no more than six years old. She was dressed in small dress robes and her long blond hair had fallen from the twin plaits that had held them together during the party.

" _Expelliarmus_!" Harry shouted with pure rage at the fact that this man was attacking such a small child. The curse struck him and the man was blown back a good twenty feet or so. Harry ran over to the small girl...only too see her too red eyes and terribly pale skin. She was a born vampire. A child one- rare and considered precious it was almost a shame the girl's parents had witnessed who had dared to attack their daughter- it wouldn't have been an easy death.

"Mama...mama said that she was coming... I...I got lost..." the girl was sobbing and trembling in fear. "Bad wizards...bad werewolves...I want to go home!" she said with nothing but the purest of despair.

"You're alright, we're not going to hurt you," Harry said, glancing quickly up. The grounds were wide and spread out. It made for a chaotic battle but he couldn't stay here long, they had to move now. "Get on my back, you can come with us."

"The hell she can!" Malfoy roared. "Are you insane? She's a vampire and you're going to have her hang on your neck?"

"She needs our help and she knows that if she bites me, she's going to be all alone. She won't hurt me," he said calmly, but also as a warning to the girl as well. The girl was looking up at them both with wide eyes. "I...I never...this was the first time my parents let me come to a party with wizards... I..." she looked terrified. Her eyes darted back to the battle. "I won't bite you," she said quietly.

"You can't take her with us Potter!"

"I said that she's coming and that's final," Harry said, helping the girl onto his back, whispering for her to hold on tight.

"Why the hell are you in charge? Not all of us are convinced of the greatness of the supposed Chosen One!"

Harry's frustration boiled over. "Listen Malfoy if we were at a fancy dinner party and there was debate about which fork I should use, I would bow to your expertise but considering we're in a life or death situation against more than one dark creature? You're in my world now. You get it? Then again if you really think that we should be following your lead on this..." Harry let the question hang, his expression harsh and grim. He should leave Malfoy behind, the blond wouldn't think twice about doing the same in position but he had a terrified little girl that was clinging desperately to his back at the moment to consider and as much as he hated to admit it, he needed Malfoy's help.

Malfoy glanced behind himself, as though weighing his options before a resigned expression came over his features. "Lead the way Chosen One but don't for a second think I'm one of your Gryffindor sidekicks that likes to run headlong into one of your exciting escapades. I'm not playing hero for anyone, Potter. Get us the hell out of here."

"No worries Malfoy the last role I ever expect you to play is a hero," Harry answered snidely. He didn't trust the Slytherin but if there was one thing that he could count on with absolute certainty it was a Malfoy's self-preservation streak.

Harry took one fleeting look at the horde of werewolves that were in quick pursuit before turning back to his reluctant ally. They had spotted them and now the small trio was considered a challenge. The only ones to escape.

"Now try to keep up," Harry said grimly as he took off as fast as his weary limbs would carry him- straight into the dark woods that he had so very much wanted to avoid.

Harry stumbled, the exhaustion catching up to him after running for what felt like an eternity. They had been chased for quite a while and been forced to change directions more than Harry would have liked. He had always made a point of watching where he was going, careful to be conscious of his surrounding but the dark woods were too similar and indistinct for him to find any landmarks even if he hadn't been running at blinding pace with a small child's panicked breaths and barely contained sobs distracting him. The events of the night had thoroughly exhausted him- physically and mentally. He would have traded his soul at this point for a piece of chocolate and if that was ironic given the circumstances he no longer cared. His pace was lagging and the added weight of the little girl was becoming heavier and heavier to him. He slowed from a run to a fast walk and then to a nearly dragging pace. Malfoy didn't look much better, his face was covered in scratches from stray tree limbs and his silver robes were black with mud and filth.

"Um...Potter?" the little girl asked uncertainly and Harry started at finally hearing her voice without tears. He looked at her in confusion before she blushed timidly. "Er... that's what he called you," she muttered.

Harry smiled at her, trying to reassure her that he was not offended by the name and waited to see what she was going to say.

"Er...I can walk now..." Harry nodded tiredly and bent down to let her off. "Right, sorry," he muttered absently, unsure what he was even referring to. "Are you alright?" he asked her gently.

The young vampire shifted nervously but nodded. "Ye-yes...thank you for helping me...and bringing me with you. I know... most people wouldn't help me..." she flushed and looked up at him shyly. Malfoy rolled his eyes but for once didn't comment, which surprised Harry. He knew that the Slytherin did not approve of helping the non-human.

"Don't worry about it, you needed help. If someone needs help and you can give it- you should," Harry answered.

The girl blinked, looking as though she had never thought in these terms before and Harry wondered if it was perhaps against vampire culture to help others- then again Malfoy looked equally bewildered by such a concept. "What's your name?" He asked her.

"Kaylee. Kalyee Von Drake. My parents are going to be so worried," she said anxiously. Harry nodded, any parents would be scared of their daughter going missing but children were rare and precious for vampires. He had learned that Born vampires were usually able to have only one or two children in the centuries of their life and protected their young furiously.

"Don't worry about it right now. We can't do anything about it at the moment but they'll be relieved when they see that you're safe."

Malfoy shot him a glare, "assuming that they don't blame us for kidnapping her."

Kaylee's eyes widened and she looked terrified that they might come to this conclusion and think that she was too much trouble to keep around. "Kaylee will be able to explain to them what happened when we bring her back to her parents," Harry answered pointedly. Malfoy grumbled under his breath about the inconvenience of her slowing them down but once again did not argue. Apparently he had decided to bow to Harry's authority in life or death situations, at least for the moment.

"I'm Harry, Harry Potter and this is Draco Malfoy." Harry noticed that the girl showed no recognition of his name and he was at once relieved and curious. She was too young to be consciously tactful, so did that mean she truly didn't know about 'the Boy-Who-Lived' or was it simply irrelevant to her?

They walked for a little while longer, Harry could still hear howls in the background, the darkness of the forest reminding him that there were other terrors to consider beside the werewolves. Harry looked for around for shelter, some place where they would safe. It was late now- past midnight and their fatigue was only going to become dangerous.

"We can stop here," he finally said, finding an opening to small cave. Small was an understatement. It was barely larger than his cupboard had been growing up and now they had three people to shelter. But it was hidden and safe and even dry which was a nice thought at the moment because he so desperately wanted to sleep. The fact that a brief lumos revealed nothing else staying in the cave was the biggest selling point in his opinion.

"We can't go in there!" Malfoy hissed, his voice horrified.

Harry rolled his eyes, "sorry Malfoy but you might have noticed that we're not exactly in a position to start looking for a five star hotel. This is the best that we have, its small and it's upwind, which means that it will be harder for the wolves to find us. By morning they'll be back to human form and we can get back to the village- it's only one night."

Malfoy's eyes darted quickly back and forth and his breathing quickened. "I'm not spending all night in some tiny little cave like some burrowing little animal. That might be fine for the Weasel and his family but I'm going to keep moving. What's the matter Potter? Tired already?"

Harry glared at him, his emotions still irritable and raw from the Dementors. It was draining experience, being near the terrible creatures, and not for the first time he wondered how in the world Sirius had managed it for 12 years. "Yes actually. I'm tired and you are too. We've been running for about a mile through these woods and if we go any further it's only going to be harder to get back. Stop being a spoiled prat and get in the cave!"

"I...I..." Malfoy shot him a hopeless look and Harry knew that it cost the other boy a great deal to say the next words, quiet and mumbled that they were, "I can't stay in that cave Potter...I don't like small spaces..." Malfoy's face was red and his eyes were glaring painfully at a spot on the ground.

Harry blinked, unprepared for such an answer. He held back a caustic remark about how it must be nice to be so spoiled that the only thing you have to be afraid of is a small room. It wasn't a fair thing to say and he knew it. Actually, Harry had often wondered why small spaces didn't bother him more, he had been locked up in them enough as a child. Perhaps it was because as much as staying in his cupboard had been a punishment it had also been a type of reprieve as well. It was the only time someone hadn't been yelling or scowling at him. The only time he knew for certain that he was free from his Uncle's wrath.

Harry let out a slow breath trying to think about what he should do now, he noticed Kaylee watching him quietly. She had taken to standing close beside him and he wondered if she wanted him to hold her hand. He did not have a lot of experience with small children, having never babysat nor had he ever had the opportunity to have younger siblings, and he wasn't sure what she expected of him. It seemed that she had decided that he was in charge and for some reason that made him more nervous than Malfoy actually taking his orders. Malfoy's reluctant compliance was much easier for him to wrap his head around than the trusting innocent eyes that were looking at him so earnestly. Truly believing that he knew what he was doing.

"Listen Mal...Draco, this is the safest place we can be. We can't keep running around blind in the woods in the dead of night, and you know as well I do that there are too many creatures that can find us if we stayed up in a tree somewhere. I...claustrophobia must be rough but you need to tell me how we can make this work."

Malfoy's jaw went rather slack and he seemed to forget his earlier resolution to not look at Harry, now his eyes were wide with surprise. "I...I never said that I was claustrophobic I... nobody likes small spaces, Potter."

Harry nodded, unwilling for the moment to rise to the usual bait. He was serious about the need to work together. He was tired and he had Kaylee to protect, another wand at his back was a necessity and he could not afford to lose it. "fine, you're right, but most people can stay in one for a night without feeling like they're going to hyperventilate. Look we can do this one of two ways- I can take the first spot inside and you can take the opening. There's a greater chance that you'll be hit first if there's an attack but you'll have fresh air. Or I can stun you. It won't be the most restful sleep but I'll take the opening and I can wake you up if we need to move or fight."

Malfoy shook his head, "a stunner would only put me out for about a half hour at the most."

Harry gave him a grim look, "not if I cast it as hard as possible. You'll probably have a hell of headache in the morning but I think I can keep you out for a few hours. I think."

Malfoy looked a bit startled at that, his eyes drifting warily to the wand in Harry's hand, which he gripped harder in subconscious acknowledgement. If he were being honest Harry wasn't positive that he could cast a stunner strong enough to keep Malfoy unconscious for the rest of the night. It was something he had never consciously tried before but he did not think that he was exaggerating his skill.

Malfoy shook his head, his shoulders slumping in defeat for a moment before some sort of theretofore never seen resolve came over him. "I'll take the opening. I rather not be unconscious if something happens." Malfoy shot him an uncharacteristically apologetic look, as though trying to convey that he wasn't trying to imply at the moment that it wasn't because he didn't trust Harry to deal with a threat but because he wanted to be in control for himself.

Harry nodded his understanding, he would have said the same thing but he knew that if there was one thing that always made him feel better it was being able to make his own decisions. Draco was the one deciding to stay in the cave, even if by the opening, which made the whole thing easier to deal with.

"You don't know how to ward do you?" Harry asked, wishing Hermione was here. Warding was Seventh Year material and even then Hogwarts only covered the minimum knowledge. Powerful wards were learned by trade, Harry knew that Bill Weasley in particular was good at them from his time as a cursebreaker, but he had heard that the average witch and wizard were only capable of the most basic protective spells. He had no doubt though that Hermione would have at least read up on the theory.

Malfoy shook his head, "I know a few muggle-repelling charms but I hardly think muggles are our problem at the moment." His face was even paler than usual in the moonlight peeking through the top of the trees, his eyes were widely dilated and Harry realized that the blond was in fact terrified of having to stay in the cave for the night, even with the caveat of him staying by the opening. He wondered what had caused the fear in the first place but did not want to risk starting an argument.

Harry let out a deep breath but tried to look confident for Kaylee's sake. He smiled at her and squeezed her shoulder, hoping that if he looked calm and unconcerned she would feel safe for the time being.

"Alright. Keep your wand handy and wake me up the second you think something is wrong." Harry turned to crawl into his spot in the cave before turning back again, "it's going to be fine. Keep your eyes on the trees and if you need to, close your eyes and picture yourself someplace else. You're not trapped and you don't have to worry about running out of air because you'll be by the opening. Just don't put your legs or anything outside of the actual cave, we need to stay as hidden as possible, alright?"

Malfoy looked fairly stunned that Harry wasn't teasing him mercilessly about his seemingly irrational fear of small spaces but Harry had never been able to take any kind of joy at seeing someone in pain, even if at other times he might have felt that a night like this was exactly what Malfoy deserved for treating others so terribly. "I'll stay inside," Malfoy agreed quietly. "Potter... thanks," he mentioned awkwardly.

Harry gave a rather forced smile, "don't thank me yet, so far all we've managed is to get trapped out in the woods for the night."

"We haven't been eaten by werewolves!" Kaylee announced rather gleefully, but she was shaking slightly from either cold or fear. Perhaps both. "Kaylee, you can lean up against me tonight. Are you cold?"

Kaylee shook her head, "no, we don't really feel the cold, not unless it's below freezing at least."

"Oh right... well it's going to be tight so you can still lean on me, alright?" He wasn't sure if he should say something about the fact that she was shaking and ask if she was scared. He had limited experience in comforting people, he only knew that he had never appreciated being talked down to when he was younger and tried to avoid doing so now. But he had also never received any comfort when he was younger and knew firsthand how painful it could be to be forced to endure everything alone.

Kaylee smiled, apparently quite content with this arrangement and the three of them used some creative seating arrangements so that they could all fit inside the cave well enough so that it would be possible for them all to get a bit of sleep by leaning up against the cave walls. The uneven surface wasn't comfortable and Harry wished that there was enough room to be able to simply lay down, but it would have to do for the night. Still, it was times like this when Harry perversely wondered if ten years of misery with the Dursleys hadn't actually given him a few advantages. He was well used to sleeping in less than comfortable conditions and was prepared to do so again.

Kaylee snuggled into his side, using him as a combination of pillow and security shield.

"Alright Malfoy? Kaylee?" Harry asked quietly once they were settled.

"I'm alright, good night Harry, good night Draco," Kaylee answered, her voice muffled slightly as she was already burrowed into Harry's side.

"Fine," Malfoy answered tightly. "Good night," he added as an afterthought.

"Good night."

It had seemed like minutes but there was no way to be sure after Harry had given into an uneasy sleep that their night in the cave was interrupted by an unlikely source. Harry screamed, his back arching, his muscles thrown into spasm. Kaylee scuttled away in fear, her breathing fast and erratic, the only other noise that Harry could hear as he paused to draw breath.

Voldemort was furious. It was unbridled fury and Harry suspected that he knew the reason. He wasn't sure how long the pain lasted, time always seemed to be rather meaningless when he became trapped in one of the man's psychotic rages, but slowly the pain diminished.

He opened his eyes and had to blink away beads of sweat that had dripped from his forehead into his eyes. Kaylee was looking at him wide-eyed and terrified, Malfoy's face was pale but silent.

It took a moment for Harry to recover his breath and when he spoke again his voice was raspy from screaming, "you think it's time that you share your plan to turn me over to the Death Eaters with me now?"

Malfoy jerked as if slapped before his features rearranged themselves into an impassive face. "I don't know what you're talking about Potter. If you haven't noticed I'm trapped in the same woods that you are. The werewolves were just as much after me as they were after you."

Harry raised his eyebrows, "there's no rule in my life that says only one person is out to kill me Draco. Last year Umbridge sent Dementors to my house just to keep me quiet about Voldemort coming back. Who- in case we haven't established- is always trying to kill me. I don't know who planned this attack tonight, or why they did it, but I do know that it was separate from whatever Voldemort's been planning."

"Can you stop saying the name! Merlin Potter we get it, you can say all three syllables, bully for you! Now stop it!"

"Answer the question!"

"I wasn't planning anything! Whatever your freaky little scar is telling you right now, I have nothing to do with it."

Harry leveled him with a glare, knowing that the other boy was lying but Malfoy knew that Harry could prove nothing. If he knew what the plan was for certain he wouldn't have needed to ask.

"You and I both know that you were planning something tonight," Harry nearly snarled.

Malfoy actually smiled, "you'll find that we know no such thing and for the moment Potter- we need each other. You can go back to tell Snape or Dumbledore or whoever else you think might believe you later but for now the only thing that we both know is that we're going to be working together."

Harry stared at the blond for a moment, inwardly wondering when exactly Malfoy had learned to use an ounce of the supposed cunning that Slytherins were reportedly known for. He had- of course- come to the same conclusion before the other boy had said it, but he had also known the other boy long enough to know that subtly and modesty were not traits he had ever learned.

Harry was also impressed with the boy's confidence that when they did get back to civilization, no one would believe his claims. It was true that Malfoy obviously didn't have the mark and all other evidence was purely circumstantial on Harry's part. In fact the only damning thing Harry could say at this point was that Malfoy had been looking at him a lot and been surprisingly pleasant during his month long stay. He could say that Voldemort had been angry but he wasn't aware of exactly why, only that it happened on the same night that Harry had felt the most on guard. Not exactly reason to call in the Aurors and interrogate the Malfoy Heir- even if he was the Heir of a Death Eater.

The salient point of the moment remained- Malfoy needed him and if there was one certainty in life it was that Draco Malfoy would always look out for Draco Malfoy.

Harry nodded his agreement, Kaylee relaxing slightly beside Draco now she could see that the argument was passing. She edged cautiously back in Harry's direction now that he was no longer screaming or angry. When Harry spoke his voice was almost cheerful. After all, if Malfoy could finally discover his Slytherin cunning perhaps it was time to show the other boy a hint of why Harry could have also been sorted away from the noble and chivalrous. "Touché Malfoy. We have to work together. For now. And you and I both know that Dumbledore would never do anything to a student when he as no real proof and Snape would be more likely to try to trade Houses with Professor Sprout than believe anything I have to say. But just remember Malfoy... unlike you, I've never been a big believer in going to others to solve my problems. If you want to be my problem... don't think for a second that I won't do something about it."

Malfoy blinked at the sudden coldness of his tone but before the other could respond, Harry had already returned to his spot in the cave. "Sorry to wake you both up again. Good night again."

HPHPHP

They were lost. Harry could not remember the last time he had been properly lost going somewhere- probably not since his First Year at Hogwarts when he and Ron had wound up trying to get into the Third Floor corridor during their first week at Hogwarts and they had been late for Transfiguration.

Much like that long ago morning, this too had started out badly- this time with a painfully shrill scream from Kaylee- and had seemingly deteriorated from there.

"You...you're different!" Kaylee cried, look up at Harry with surprise and a confusion.

Malfoy had jumped, startled out of the cave his wand out in front and a curse on his lips before he realized that he was safe. Harry had also jumped awake but his reaction had been more contained. He had instinctively grabbed his wand from his side but long experience with the Dursleys had taught him not only how to wake up to shrill screams but that when facing an enemy the element of surprise was key. Rather than jump up and announce his presence, Harry stayed still but alert until he too realized the source of the scare.

Kaylee was rapidly calming down, knowing that she was with wizards and that magic was common place among them but still visibly suspicious. Harry's hand instinctively went to his hair even though he could not see his reflection. The charms had reversed themselves overnight.

"It's alright, it was just transfiguration. This is how I really look," Harry tried to explain gently, careful not to make any sudden movements lest the young vampire feel that he had suddenly become a threat.

"Harry Potter..." the girl said wonderingly, her eyes drawn to the scar on his head for the first time. "I...I forgot..." she blushed at this admission. "You're not as famous to vampires as you are to witches and wizards and mama and papa don't let me talk about the Dark One or the baby that vanquished him. They say we shouldn't get involved in other people's messes."

Harry nodded, "you're right, I'm Harry Potter and there are a lot of people that are trying to find me, so I've been...undercover."

"Find you to kill you?" the small girl asked in a matter of fact way that would have been terrifying for any human child.

"Probably. But I think for the moment we don't have to worry about Voldemort." Harry peeked outside and saw the sun had risen perhaps a half hour previous. It was still early but with the sun risen, the threat of werewolves would be gone. He thought it would perhaps be better to move now when the werewolves and their allies would probably still be sleeping and recovering from the events of the night before.

"We should get going."

Kaylee and Draco had both agreed but that had been the last of any kind of intelligent idea from any of them. Draco had insisted that the village lay to the west and that they should move in the opposite direction from the sun but they had been forced to change direction more than once to avoid different colonies of creatures. Harry had recognized the signs of another nest of acromantulas from the concentration of webbing and his memory Aragog's home and had steered them in a long circle around the area. Kaylee had insisted that she smelled 'bad blood' which meant large predators near the stream which had meant moving South quite a ways before they were able to get back to any semblance of trail back and Malfoy had steered them carefully around some green plants that he had informed them were highly poisonous. The changes in direction had left them without a clear way back to the village and as the day wore on, tempers were starting to grate.

"I'm starving!" Malfoy complained. Harry sighed but knew there was only one thing he could do.

"Here," He said, shoving the two apples that he had been keeping in his pocket in the boy's face. Malfoy blinked before finally saying, "you've had these this whole time?"

Harry shrugged, "we needed to save our rations but you look like you can't go much further, so eat."

"How do you have these? We didn't pass any fruit."

Kaylee was looking between the two older boys in confusion but said nothing and Harry had a feeling that the girl was confused about them needing to eat already. He knew enough about vampires to know that they only needed to feed every few days, and he could only hope that Kaylee's parents had ensured that she was well feed before they had taken her to a party with human blood so plentiful.

"Call it being prepared," Harry answered, flippantly. He was not about to share the fact that he had taken the food from the party out of habit from staying with Snape. After that first day Snape had not denied him another meal, but he had also never indicated that the option was off the table. Harry had been good at avoiding the Potion's Master for the most part over the last few weeks and so the man had not had any reason to deny him food, but long experience had taught Harry not to take anything for granted. He was hungry himself at the moment and the fact that it was taking them far longer than he had anticipated to return back to the village had him a bit worried but Harry was used to feeling the gnawing pains of hunger and knew that he was better equipped to deal with them than Malfoy.

They walked for another hour and Harry was fairly certain that he knew the way out, he could see a patch of light from the lightening tree line and even if they had not wound up in the right place, once they found a road they could summon the Knight Bus to return them home.

Of course for Harry Potter things are never that simple.

It was Malfoy that did it though after the fact Harry could fairly admit that it was only chance that it wasn't him that stepped on the small nest of doxies and caused them to fly out in a fury to attack. Harry was caught off balance and in his haste was too concerned with protecting Kaylee to properly worry about himself. Had he used a proper shield charm he might have protected them both. Instead he used the time he had to levitate her up into a tree.

Malfoy predictably saved himself.

Harry... threw himself to the side, only to realize that the uneven ground gave way to steep him that sent him slipping ass over teakettle.

Harry tumbled down the hill, bumping tree trunks and rocks along the way. A stray branch ripped over his abdomen and he could feel blood trickling even as he rolled down further on his now utterly obliterated robes. He came to rest in a large green patch of vegetation and for a moment Harry couldn't even think of moving as his whole body hummed with aches and pains.

And then there was shot of pure agony. The wound in his side was now covered in the green plant and was seeping into the bloodstream with terrible precision. The horde of doxies had rushed past in a fury but had not stopped to attack the strange creatures that they failed to recognize, instead moving to attack more familiar game.

Malfoy and Kaylee were making their way towards him, moving as quickly as possible down the uneven and dangerous terrain. Malfoy saw the wound first and sucked in a harsh breath. "Damnit Potter you really know how to get yourself into the most ridiculous situations."

Harry couldn't even respond, his side was on fire. He couldn't think through the pain.

"What?" he rasped out.

"That's _phantasies interius_ ," Draco explained his expression unusually grim. "Fantasy's demise."

"Will he be alright?" Kaylee asked, kneeling down beside Harry but as she got closer her nose scrunched up in disgust. "Bad blood."

Draco nodded, "that's what it does...its a poison. Potter... you've just been demoted. You need to listen to me. That plant is going to drive you insane. It's going to make you hallucinate, and then it's going to make you even more reckless than a Gryffindor. You need to listen to what I say and do it- do you understand?" he said urgently.

Harry swallowed, sweat already breaking out on his brow. The pain was excruciating. He needed to focus, before he trusted Malfoy of all people to get them there he needed to make sure that the idiot even knew what he was doing. "There was a lightening of the tree line at the top of the hill, that's our way out. Due east but it's going to take us a couple of hours, we can't go up this way, it's too steep and the ground is too soft. If we travel north and then cut upwards we should be able to get back around- can you make sure that we get there?"

Malfoy nodded, his face solemn and for once there was no arrogance or smug condemnation. "I can but Potter listen to me now before you can't listen later, whatever happens you have to keep moving. Don't stop, don't lay down, don't try to rest until you feel better- that poison is only going to get worse. We have to move and we have to move as fast as possible."

Harry nodded before looking at Kaylee, "one more thing in case I can't say it later, Malfoy, look after Kaylee. Protect her. If I can't make it... do what you have to do but get her out of here."

Kaylee looked up him with wide, misty eyes she looked as though she both wanted to throw her arms around him and run away from the no doubt increasing stench of his poisoned blood.

"I promise," Malfoy said and the two rivals nodded before setting out as quickly as possible.

It couldn't have been long, not that long at least, but every second felt like an eternity. Harry trudged forward, his thoughts blurring. One step, another step, one more...now another.

"You really need to keep moving," a voice called.

"I _know_ Hermione!" Harry grunted out, "You told me. I get it."

There was a beat of silence and Harry wondered if he had offended her... where was Hermione? He didn't see her but Hermione was always the one giving him advice, it must have been her. He could no longer remember quite why he had to keep moving but he knew that he couldn't stop. He kept repeating it to himself.

They were walking and a boy was talking and Harry wasn't listening. He was focusing on his thoughts. He needed to remember to keep walking. Sirius had told him that he needed to enjoy his life. His mother told him that he was going to have a long one. His father was proud of him. He needed to keep walking. Keep going.

It was dark now. He wasn't sure why it was dark but somehow the sun had vanished. Was it coming back?

"Where's the sun?" he asked, his voice sounded thick. Of course it did, he hadn't talked for a long time. Probably years. Ever since he had started the walking.

"It's nighttime," a little girl told him and Harry thought that he had seen her before but he didn't know why the little girl had to walk forever like he did.

"We made it," another voice said and Harry cocked his head as he wondered why Ron had bothered to dye his hair blond. He had always quite liked the Weasley red. He needed to tell him that he would look better as a redhead.

"Ron..."

"Well...well...well... look at that, if it isn't ittle-baby-Potter come back with nephew Draco. Drac-o" sang the voice, "you're very la-te. Do you know what that means?"

Harry didn't hear the response that was given. He was staring up at the deranged face that had haunted his nightmares for months.

"You're going to have to be taught a lesson, my dear nephew. Looks like you made yourself a little friend. Friends do everything together nephew dear... even fight together."

He knew that voice. He was in the Department of Mysteries and Bellatrix Lestrange was trying to kill Sirius. Harry glanced at to his side- not this time. This was his chance, he was being given a second chance to save Sirius and this time... this time he was going to do anything to protect him. Harry raised his wand- and smiled. And right before the first curse struck Harry's last thought was _I didn't think it would be this much fun._

 **A/N: Thanks so much for your responses to the last chapter. I had wanted to put this out earlier but I found writing so much action difficult.**

 **I hope the end part of the chapter wasn't terribly confusing. Harry is under the influence of a powerful hallucinogenic and incredibly painful poison- his thoughts are not coherent or rational.**

 **Next chapter we get to see how Snape has been faring.**


	13. Have I Been Missing Something?

**Chapter 13 : Have I Been Missing Something?**

"Yes thank you I will be sure to keep everyone informed….yes… yes I know. I really must be going but I thank you _again_ for you concern," he said shortly, disappointed that his curt tone seemed to have no effect.

Severus hung up the phone and sighed in irritation. He should never have installed the blasted muggle contraction but of course Prince Manor couldn't be seen to be so distinctly... odd as not to have a telephone even if they had been able to draw the line at most other types of muggle technology. Severus would have hexed someone, Statue of Secrecy be damned, before he would have been made to get a television or worse join that new invention...the interweb or some such nonsense.

He had always considered the phone a modest compromise. It was only a noticeable inconvenience if people were to actually call- which they never did, until today of course. The phone had been ringing all morning. The fact that he had no idea how so many people seemed to have the number was apparently irrelevant. There were seemingly no secrets in Crescent Nest- which, of course, is the way of all small towns that had dozens of sordid tales hidden behind neat white picket fences.

The culprits of the attack that had remained in the village had been cornered and appropriately handled. Some had been sent to the Ministry, others had been detained at the local jail- the Vampires present had wanted to deal out a swifter justice but the Wizards were able to contain the situation for the moment. The muggles had been led to believe that it had been a politically motivated terror attack of some kind and were desperately on edge. It was hard enough explaining where five of the 'suspects' had been taken when no one had seen a transfer van or any outside police come into the town- but if the Vampires had managed to start killing there would have been no way to stop a full scale panic.

While the Ministry had effectively modified their memories to clear them of any sign of magic or werewolves, large scale memory-edits were not only difficult but needed to be done extremely quickly lest the people start comparing stories before all of the affected people were treated. Which usually meant that not only was done sloppily but then there was the added difficulty that despite their interaction with muggles on a regular basis, many of the Oblivitors lacked real practical knowledge of what constituted muggle protocols and technology- only leading to more suspicion.

As it stood there had been seven deaths- four muggles, two wizards and a young witch- and three Vampires had been destroyed as well. Five of the seven had been caused by the Dementors devouring the person's soul and wizards were later forced to kill the empty body so that the muggles were able to understand. Severus, of course, knew of stories in which there were muggles that had suffered the Dementor's Kiss but had not killed before they were discovered by other muggles, and those unfortunates were generally institutionalized- given labels like 'catatonic' or brain dead, with no medical explanation beyond that of 'shock'. A merciful killing was much kinder in the end, not only for the poor lost soul but for their former family and friends as well who would evitable hope in vain for a recovery that was utterly impossible. However, with no clear explanation of why the deaths had occurred or what had motivated the attack in the first place the town was naturally in a state of uproar over the deaths and was allowing anger to cloud the pervading sense of crippling death. The town wanted a target for their energy in the absence of viable suspect still on hand they directed that energy on those still missing after the nights events.

The fact that a young vampire was now missing, and was by many presumed dead, was only adding fuel to the flames. The vampire community was apoplectic that such a young girl of their own was missing and were... with no sense of irony... out for blood. The muggles, of course had no way of knowing that Kaylee VonDrake was not a human and had flocked to her family with support, but then they had discovered quickly that 'Jimmy Evans' was missing along with Draco Malfoy. Severus had lived long enough to know that adults reacted viscerally when children were involved in cases such as these. They had an empathy for missing or hurt kids that they never quite managed for other adults but he had still not been prepared for the reaction the town had given when they had discovered that it was 'Jimmy Evans' that was missing.

" _Such a sweet and caring boy,"_ he had heard from the second-hand shop lady. _"Did you know that he comes in here every week and buys the nicest things he can find for the Group Home? Yes sir, I asked him one day why he was always buying so many different sizes and he told me that he wanted to donate the clothes, oh but…don't say anything to anyone except Bonnie- he made her tell all the kids down there that they were from her. Didn't want them to think he was giving them charity."_

" _Did you know that he would help me carry in my groceries every week? Nicest boy, always so polite_ ," that had been Mrs. Seville, an elderly widow that lived alone and, to Severus' knowledge, had not willingly spoken to another person in town in the last 10 years before she had shown up at his door asking if there was anything that she could do.

" _I was so happy to see Sylvie hire someone that knew how to work for a change,"_ Dr. Ramrod mentioned as she made her way around the village helping with injuries. _"It's nice to see a boy that actually appreciates the value of a pound because everything he has hasn't been handed to him his whole life. I'm not sure where she finds these boys that act as though they've never seen a scrub brush before but Jimmy would finish all his work and then always offer to help anyone that ever needed it. And funny too. Came into my office to get new lenses for his glasses- didn't have enough for new frames, I take it that his parents don't have a lot of money I suppose- and had me cracking up when he was telling me about how terrible his old ones were. Dry wit... very mature, isn't he? You must be proud,"_ she had ended by shaking her head, not noticing that Severus had not agreed with her sentiment.

" _He's my best friend_ ," a small scruffy-looking boy down the road had said, looking embarrassed. When Severus had looked skeptical of this claim- the two had barely known each other for a month after all and the boy couldn't be more than 11- the boy had flushed and muttered softly, " _I mean… I know I'm not_ his _best friend but… I don't really have any other friends and he's always nice to me."_

" _He's the best person I know._ "

That was a statement he had heard three different times.

The muggles' desire for help was creating a larger problem than Severus had anticipated. In the past, most muggles (in his experience) could be set at ease with assurances that the 'proper authorities' were taking care of things but, once again, Potter had to be the exception. Their insane loyalty to him had them unusually resistant to backing off. Despite the fact that no one in this town had even met the boy over a month ago, they were inexplicably miserable about his disappearance. One of them had even had the audacity to say that they couldn't believe something so awful had happened to 'one of their own'. There had been hardly a mention of Draco from anyone.

Even his blasted house-elf had been inconsolable all day. Sobbing her broken heart out that 'kind young sir Harry' was missing and that it was truly a most 'terrible, horrible day for the world when the best of wizards is in such danger'.

Severus had often felt like the sole voice of reason when discussing the merits of the so-called 'Boy-Who-Lived'. When he had started at Hogwarts the other professors had been instantly smitten. Hagrid had bombastically told anyone who would listen how much like the boy's parents he was- a sentiment that Snape half agreed with and did not consider a compliment. Pomona had often commented on how nice the boy seemed- but then Pomona usually made that assessment of new students, she was hardly worth listening to. Minerva had brazenly given the boy an illegal spot on the Quidditch team after he should been given a month of detentions and then extolled them all exhaustively on his prodigious talent. She had commended him more than once over the years for displaying what any rational person would have deemed nothing less than true Gryffindor recklessness. Filius alone had been tempered in his praise but even he had exalted more on the fact that the boy was not reaching his full potential rather than him not having any. Filius was of the belief that Potter had an astute mind that he failed to challenge and refused to properly focus on his studies- but when presented with something that Potter felt either important or interesting he was able to excel well beyond his peers.

And then there was Albus... convinced that Potter had been 'the Chosen One' long before the headlines in the Prophet, Albus had given his Golden Boy a free pass far too many times and felt that he could do no wrong. If there was anyone to blame for the idiocy of Potter leading five other students into a trap set by the Dark Lord with no plan save his own resolve to 'rescue' his worthless godfather, it was Albus for encouraging the boy and his friends to believe that they were capable of such a ridiculous 'plan'.

Still in the past it had been very easy for Severus to disregard all of these opinions because he had _known_ them all to be blinded by the legend of the 'Boy-Who-Lived'. They might reprimand him in class or assign him detention but the truth remained that there was not a single professor in that school that did not secretly believe that Potter was not only special but would in fact be their hero. It was a truth that he was not sure many of them even recognized themselves. Severus had kept a clear head about who Potter truly was; what the boy had truly accomplished and what he was truly capable of doing and he had refused to bend to their idle hero-worship.

Which was why he suddenly found himself at an utter loss to explain the heart-wrenching pain that the disappearance of 'supposedly-ordinary-Jimmy-Evans' had on a town that had only gotten the chance to know him for a few weeks.

There was a knock on the door and Severus growled to himself in frustration. He had not been able to do anything productive for half a day because he had been forced to deal with a band of useless well-wishers that pretended to offer help when in reality all they had given him were hold-ups and delays in the search.

"Catherine," Severus greeted, momentarily relieved that he finally had someone at the door that at least had some grasp of the situation. "Has Sylvia heard anything yet? I know that she was in contact with the Ministry."

"Nothing yet. She's been making calls all morning. She's grown really attached to Harry. Says he's the best squib worker she's ever had," Catherine added with a grin that Severus refused to return. Another loyal fan. "They sent in a team of Aurors, once they heard that its actually 'Harry Potter' that's in danger they couldn't do enough to help. In fact I would say overeager. Funny," she added thoughtfully, "you would almost think that they were happy that the kid was in trouble."

"I have no doubt that the Ministry would be very happy indeed if they were able to rescue Potter from another one of his improvised adventures. After the mess they made of things last year, they would love to have him in their debt," Severus informed her drily.

Catherine grinned and took a seat in the living room without waiting for invitation. After a moment she sighed and ran a hand nervously over her curly hair, "Do you think Draco will be alright?"

Severus sighed and ran a hand down his tired face. "I certainly hope so, though the longer that they are both missing the more cause for concern I have. Although I must say, it is a relief to find _someone_ in this town that has a modicum of concern for young Malfoy. One would think that this entire town is under the impression that I only have one boy in my care."

Catherine chuckled softly. "Well I can't say that I'm surprised. People do have a way of worrying about…let's say, the things they want rather than the things they need?"

Severus frowned at the young woman. "If you're implying that people are blind to what's in front of them, I could not agree with you more." Potter did have a way of charming people that was uncanny, somehow the Gryffindor had wrapped them all around his finger, but they had no idea of his true character. Merlin, they didn't even know the boy's true NAME. He wondered idly for a moment how these people would feel if they found out that the 'Jimmy Evans' that they knew was a lie.

Catherine nodded and continued to elaborate, but while her words suggested that she was agreeing with what he was saying, her tone implied that she found him more ignorant than the townspeople. "I mean of course Harry…sorry I suppose we should say _Jimmy_ \- is the one that's easy to worry about. He's nice to everyone. He doesn't cause unnecessary problems and most importantly he looks out for people that can't look out for themselves. He's a defender of the weak."

"You mean that he meddles in others' affairs and enjoys playing the hero."

"Jimmy likes to help people, that much is obvious, but I don't think he sees it as meddling. I think he's seen that most people…" she paused for a moment, her face turned thoughtful and Severus knew that despite the fact that the words were spontaneous, the sentiment behind it was something that she had carefully considered. Catherine was the type of person that judiciously watched the people around her. Perhaps it was her illness, which had made her such an outsider to the people around, but he had rarely met a young woman so accurate in their assessment of others and therefore actually respected what she had to say. "Harry is a person that has a seen a lot of cruelty in his life. He's seen what suffering has cost other people and I think that he decided a long time ago that he was never going to hurt someone weaker than himself because…" she shrugged and looked almost apologetic as though relating a secret that she knew she wasn't supposed to share but was deliberately telling anyway. "He knows what it feels like and I think he wishes that someone had stood up for him in his life."

"Potter has never had to worry about being considered ' _weak_ ', from the moment he entered Hogwarts he has been seen as an entitled celebrity. Students twice his size would look up to him as a First Year. _Three_ times, come to that. Potter was ridiculously small as a First Year."

Catherine shook her head, frowning at him. "They might have looked up the idea of 'Harry Potter' but do you really think that any of them went of their way to help him if he was in trouble? Do you really think that being 'Harry Potter' has been easy for a small boy raised in the muggle world? I was in school with Harry too, **I** never spoke to him," she admitted with a regretful shake of her head. "But I do remember hearing all the whispering behind his back. I never thought about it at the time. I never considered it my problem- maybe that's why I think Harry is such a good person. After getting to know him more this summer, I think if _Harry_ heard the rumors I did about someone else…I think he would have actually stopped them. He got Charlie to stop harassing Derrick and that new boy Trent, he's the only person that was ever willing to tell him off about it."

"Who are these people?"

Catherine smiled, she always found it hilarious that in such a small and close-knit town, Severus could still manage to be aloof with almost everyone. "Harry's football mates. The ones from the Home? Charlie is the ringleader. He's not a bad bloke, not really, but he likes to take charge but putting others down. I expect it makes him feel important. He's already the biggest and the most popular, his position isn't really ever in jeopardy but…" Catherine grimaced. "Well according to Sylvie, kids in the Home are prone to be a bit…insecure but they're more likely to show it by going after people they consider weaker than themselves. No one's ever wanted to tell Charlie off before. Either because they were scared that he would beat them up or because they were worried that by making an enemy of Charlie, they would find themselves on the outs with everyone else."

Severus nodded his understanding. James Potter had been much the same way, without the orphan complex of course. But any enemy of Potter was seen as an enemy to the entire House of Gryffindor- and usually much of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw as well. Before the plague that was the Marauders on Hogwarts, Severus thought that the House split was fairly even, Slytherin and Gryffindor had been fighting for centuries but the other Houses had been more neutral in the past, different individuals making up their own minds on who to side with. Hufflepuffs usually siding alongside Gryffindors while Ravenclaws allied with Slytherins. But Potter's group's massive popularity coupled with an enormous vindictive streak meant that Slytherin House had found itself utterly alone. A tradition that had somehow stuck for all of the years since their graduation.

Catherine continued, "As the new bloke in town, most people wouldn't want to cause waves. Harry never seemed to care as long as he got Charlie to stop. And it worked. Harry has a way..." she seemed to consider. "Honestly... at first I thought it was just the fact that Charlie had finally met someone tougher than he is- after all, posing as a squib or not I doubt Harry Potter's very worried about a muggle after facing You-Know-Who but after I while I realized that Charlie wasn't afraid of Harry. He respected him. Like... looked up to him and wanted to impress him and knew the only way he was going to do that was if he stopped picking on other kids."

Severus frowned, flashes of a bright afternoon many years ago in which another boy had wanted to show off by picking on someone weaker- if only because he was outnumbered. And how even the boy that knew better was too cowardly to so much as look up from his book and girl that...

Severus cleared his throat, determined not to make the connection that was on the edge of his brain. "Which brings us back to everyone's lack of concern for Draco… _how_ may I ask?" Severus asked pointedly.

Catherine smirked and gave an apologetic shrug. "Draco's a bit of a git, isn't he?"

Severus wasn't sure why he felt offended on the young Slytherin's behalf, he was not ignorant of the boy's more abrasive qualities, but he had always felt as though Draco had been a child that had been forced into a role that he had never quite realized that he had never actually chosen. For a boy that strived so hard to be seen as a leader, he had become a consummate follower. It wasn't so much that Draco didn't make his own choices or was actively forced into doing anything, but he was a boy that that was so concerned with making his parents proud or keeping powerful friends happy that he had never bothered to question what he truly believed in. If asked why muggles were inferior to wizards, Severus very much doubted that Draco could get further in thought process than 'my father said..."

"I always thought that you and Draco had a rather nice relationship," he settled for saying.

"We do. I know Draco is actually a much better person than he pretends to be- but I also know that he doesn't give the best of first impressions. Especially when he thinks someone is beneath him, which is just about everyone. Honestly Severus, are you really so surprised that a town of mostly muggles aren't that concerned about a boy that has shown them nothing but distain? They don't even know why it is that Draco is constantly sneering at them."

"Then why did _you_ ask about Draco and not Harry?" he pressed.

Catherine grinned, "because I think we both know that Draco is the one that we need to worry about. Harry is the type of person that will survive. He'll fight and he'll dig down deep and…he'll make it through."

"You have that much faith in him?"

Catherine shrugged, "I wouldn't call it faith necessarily, I would call it... assessing a person's strengths. Harry won't give up and while that doesn't mean that he'll be safe, I do think it means that he's earned my…confidence in him."

"And Mr. Malfoy? Your assessment of his strengths?" he asked, curious to see what she would say about his protégé of Slytherin House.

Catherine smirked, "Malfoys are very good at finding people to do all the hard work for them. Personally I think that as long as Harry hasn't lost his temper and sent him on his way- Draco will just fine, and he'll make it out of the woods in the proper amount of steps behind Harry- wherever he feels the safest."

Severus was spared from answering that particular comment by a knock on the door. He opened it to find a worried and pale Remus Lupin alongside Nymphadora Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt. "Is that everyone that the Order could spare for their precious 'Chosen One'? Or perhaps they heard that a Malfoy was out there as well and decided to hedge their bets."

All three ignored his snarky welcome and pushed into his foyer.

They paused at seeing someone else in his parlor but Lupin seemed to recover himself, "Miss Grant, it's been quite a while."

"It really has Professor. It's nice to see you again though I suppose your circumstances for being here aren't preferable. Please you can call me Catherine now," she answered as she stuck out her hand in greeting.

"Remus," he answered shorted, as he shook it. "And yes, the circumstances lead a lot to be desired at the moment," he said before turning to back to Severus. "Tackley and Moody are preparing a team against a massive Death Eater attack, they weren't happy when your little plan failed. Something went very wrong the last night. And I think it had something to with you and Draco." Lupin's voice was harsh with anger and Severus took a step back and reassessed how he should address the situation. Lupin had always been the least predictable of the Marauders. The Marauders of Gryffindor... four boys that could not have represented the supposed ideals of Godric Gryffindor less than if the Sorting Had had issued a special challenge that year.

Black had- at least- been consistent in his volatility. Every exchange from the first had been a confrontation between Severus and Black and their mutual hatred for one another had fueled twenty years of arguments. Despite Potter junior's naïve belief that Black had been thrown into prison without any kind of regard- there had been good reason for people to never question the idea that the Black Heir had followed in his family's footsteps. Cruel and arrogant, Black had been given the leeway in Gryffindor that he never would have found in Slytherin. Perhaps the change in houses had been the truest mark of Slytherin cunning- go where you're least suspected and operate without impunity.

Potter had had a nasty sense of humor and a self-assured swagger that meant all criticism and retribution meant nothing to him other than as an excuse to strike out at his enemies again. When it came to his pranks and the humiliation that they caused, he was the most creative but unlike Black the other leader of the infamous gang had a firm moral line that he had been unprepared to cross. Severus had always known that Potter had been a mean spirited bully but somehow the other boy had always seen himself as the 'good guy'. There were curses he refused to use, lengths to which he would not go. Potter considered this nobility- Snape had always seen the truth...it had merely been weakness. Potter felt free to spread embarrassment and humiliation to anyone that he considered beneath him, he felt justified in doling out pain to anyone that opposed him. But anything that would tarnish his golden image with the taint of the 'Dark Arts' was too hard. When at meetings where the Dark Lord would torture muggles or small children- Snape knew that Potter would never have the famous Gryffindor courage to sit and watch.

Pettigrew was a worthless follower. More cruel than any of the others but no one had ever noticed because he had lacked the conviction to do anything on his own. Or perhaps the more accurate assessment would have been to say that Pettigrew had always refused to do anything where he received the majority of the blame. Severus could almost appreciate a man that had so thoroughly duped people that were supposed to know him better than anyone if it had been done with any kind of actual ambition. Pettigrew was a scared little rodent that couldn't bear the thought of laying down his own life. He had no ideals beyond continuing his own pathetic existence.

Lupin, however, had been a bit of a wildcard. Unlike the others Lupin did not get real pleasure from causing other people discomfort. In fact most of Lupin's crimes came from his silence. Lupin was infamous for placing his own neuroses above anything else and allowing others to call it 'shyness' or 'low self-esteem'. Lupin had never once stood up to his betters- it was the reason that he had gone along with the Marauder's in school and at a single word from Dumbledore had never once contacted the son of one of his best friends after he was orphaned. In the events following that fated Halloween, Dumbledore had informed the members of the Order where Potter would be staying and said that he thought it best that the boy be allowed to lead a normal childhood. Lupin had taken that as the excuse that he needed to absolve any guilt about leaving and not looking back. It had been the same when they had been in school- when things got too hard, Lupin left. Just as Snape had known he would leave once he leaked the truth of his lycanthropy. He could have blackmailed or threatened. He could have gone directly to the board of governors and called for his removal but Severus had known Lupin far too long. No one had needed to ask- Lupin had done what he had always done best.

On the other hand, Lupin had been the only one of the three former classmates who had tried to put their past behind them after meeting once again after so many years. Black and he had both been satisfied to pick up their old hatred as though no time had passed but Lupin had seemed to have come to the conclusion that time apparently healed all wounds and with age came maturity. From the outset of Lupin's brief tenure as a professor he had attempted to be cordial and even polite towards the Slytherin that he had helped to be ridiculed and isolated as a teen. Severus was not blind enough to not realize that by refusing to end the grudge and to continue to be passive aggressive at best and downright rude at worst he looked like the bad guy. His sharp ears had picked up on the numerous teachers and students that had muttered and whispered about his awful behavior towards the 'nice man' or 'cool professor'.

However, Severus had felt that as he had been the boy that had been mocked and bullied, it was not Lupin's place to decide when their grudges should end. _He_ had been one that had been victimized from the first, and if he had shot off a few curses and played his own version of revenge at the time than he was perfectly entitled. Severus cared little about the approval of others- a lesson that he had learned curtesy of the Marauders- and if he had be considered the petty one than it was still preferable to bowing to a truce that he had never agreed to.

Still, Severus also knew from hard experience that when pushed too far, or when particularly angry, Lupin had always been the most dangerous of the lot. Perhaps it was the inner werewolf, but the man's closely controlled temper could ignite into a towering inferno under the right provocation. Severus also knew that werewolves were notoriously loyal to those they considered in their 'pack' so to speak. If he considered Potter such a person, then the man would have been on edge all night as the wolf, waiting to know if the plan had worked and now that he was aware that it had not... yes Severus would need to proceed with caution.

Shifting gears from hostility to cool detachment, Severus replied coolly, "I have not been in contact with the Dark Lord in more than two weeks so if anything 'went wrong' as you say, you would be more informed on that front than I am." This was not true of course but the trio of Order members hardly needed to know that information. He knew that the other Order members were not fond of the plan that had dangled Potter as bait for a Death Eater trap with the intention of not only attempting to capture them unaware but to hopefully shore up Snape's allegiance once he acted quickly to 'save' as many of the Dark Lord's supporters as possible. Though Draco had believed that he would be leading Potter to his own abduction- the truth of the matter was he was actually leading himself into a trap.

Albus had planned it so that at the moment of ambush the Order would strike, they get Potter to safety and 'kidnap' Draco. They would then use the fact that both of the boy's parents were already in protective custody to force the boy's hand into a vow that would ensure that he would remain neutral for the duration of the war. The Order would provide protection for the boy and his family, the Dark Lord would lose the possibility of a strong supporter and fighter for his cause, and Draco's soul would be saved whether the boy liked it or not.

In addition, the ambush hoped to take out as many Death Eaters as possible and- best of all- the credit for the failed ambush would fall wholly on the shoulders of Yaxley and Macnair who had been kind enough to be easily confunded into bringing the plan to the Dark Lord's attention and then almost demanding that they be given full responsibility over its execution from the moment the Draco led the boy off the proper path and gave the signal. Severus had needed to play his role extremely well over the past few weeks. Giving away exacting information. Being sure to accommodate any and all slight changes that the Dark Lord had wanted in his treatment of the boy or the information that he was 'supposed' to give to Dumbledore. Playing the double agent was difficult- playing the triple agent such as he was... at times seemed nearly impossible.

Lily had once told him that she had never met anyone that told a story like Severus, because he could make anything sound like it was possible. It was first meant as a compliment and then later... more of an accusation. Severus had always been a very good liar but it had never escaped his notice that others could be just as good as he. It was a game of averages- how many plans could he set before someone caught on? How much could he trust Dumbledore's manipulations to keep his position secure for the Order while at the same time keeping Potter safe?

"This was your plan Snape, do you realize that after the attack last night Harry and the Malfoy boy might be headed right into the Death Eaters?" Lupin asked.

"This was not _my_ plan, Lupin," Severus snarled. His anger at being blamed for all of the Order's mishaps overriding his good sense to not provoke the agitated man. It was only mid-day after the night of the full moon, Lupin was pale and trembling slightly. By rights he should be in bed but no doubt some hint of stubborn Gryffindor pride had propelled him to join the so-called rescue mission. But the remnants of the wolf were strong and his temper was short and obviously frayed.

"This was Dumbledore's plan so if you have problems with it, you should have addressed them to him."

The fact that Albus Dumbledore had been sorted into Gryffindor instead of Slytherin was yet another prime example of the Sorting Hat's short comings- the man was a Machiavellian genius at subterfuge. After somehow convincing Severus to accept the brat into his home for over a month, he had then allowed Severus to tell the Dark Lord exactly who his houseguest was- with the understanding that there were wards surrounding Potter that were constructed by Dumbledore himself and if Potter were to leave the grounds of the Manor than he would immediately know and Dumbledore would be ready to intervene personally. The Dark Lord was also under the impression that Severus' home was being watched by several Order members that were stationed to watch not only Potter, but also for signs of disloyalty from the man that was working as their 'double-agent'. It was something that the Dark Lord would have done himself and so never questioned that Severus was under a microscope when it came to his position at Hogwarts.

The Dark Lord wanted Potter dead but he was not foolish enough to give up his spy on Dumbledore. The man was playing the long game and Potter's death alone would not secure him victory. Which is why Severus had been surprised when the Dark Lord had not immediately demanded that Severus defy the man and bring the boy to him right away even it meant blowing his 'cover'- but not shocked. The man still considered his former Transfiguration teacher to be the real threat. The one wizard capable of stopping him- both with power and sheer omniscience. The Dark Lord's refusal to openly challenge Albus Dumbledore ensured that he did not expect his move indispensable people to either. Risks were for those outside of the Inner Circle.

This added insurance had also allowed Severus to plant the idea of the plan to capture Potter with someone other than himself so that they could present it to the Dark Lord themselves. Severus had offered another, less...dramatic means of getting the boy to their master. A potion that would knock the boy out and confuse the wards into thinking he was merely sleeping, and then a porkey that would be used after another person blasted down the door and 'stunned' Severus before he could properly defend himself. It was a safer plan but one that did call into question Severus' supposed loyalty to the Headmaster if someone were to easily to get past his own wards and did not take into account anyone watching the house. If Severus' loyalty was even questioned, it jeopardized the Dark Lord's best positioned spy in the war.

Yaxley and MacNair's plot got the boy just far enough away from the Manor that he could be taken by force and not only secure Severus' 'innocence' in the kidnap, but had the shock and awe of a surprise attack. The Dark Lord's great weakness was his showmanship.

Severus rather suspected that the Headmaster was going to have a harder time securing Draco's full cooperation than the man bargained for. Draco was very eager to throw his life away following a madman and he was not about to let an old man that he had never credited with the proper respect to stop him. Perhaps one day Draco would learn to appreciate how much trouble that 'muggle loving fool' was going to in order to protect him and his family, even though neither of his parents had ever done anything to deserve such consideration. Of course if Draco were a few years older or already marked, Dumbledore would have required a bit more than neutrality for his promise of protection but the man took the safety of his students seriously and would not allow them to be harmed if he could help it.

Severus had only come to the man for help after he been of age and marked. After he killed.

" _And what would you give me in return, Severus?"_

" _Anything."_

Severus had sincerely hoped that one day Draco would have learned to be grateful. But of course all of those plans were worthless now. There was no telling what condition the boys were in, or who they had run into at this point.

"Were you called last night?" Shacklebolt asked. He seemed to want to get away from directing plan and onto solving the current problem.

Severus' face twisted in frustration at the reminder that he would always be separate from the other Order members who would never knew the pain that lanced up his arm coupled with the burning fear in his chest that came with each summons that they so casually asked about.

"When Draco and I failed to deliver Potter to the proper place at the appointed time, the Dark Lord obviously became upset. Obviously the cause of our delay was easily explained and collaborated. The attack last night was both vicious and wide spread, which happened to work in our favor as the Dark Lord is very well aware that Albus would never coordinate such a diversion, even for the chance to save Potter. He knows that there was a third party involved and he was...quite put out that not only is there another opposition to his power but that said opposition interrupted his plans for the boy."

Severus pinched the bridge of his nose. It had been an intolerably long 36 hours or so. The suddenness of the attack coupled with the late, last minute summons from a furious mad-man, leading right into the braying platitudes and worries of the muggle townspeople over the disappearance of 'Jimmy Evans' in the wake of their own tragedies were all weighing heavily on him.

"The boys were last seen heading into the woods, they should have reappeared by now," Tonks said, frowning in the direction of the dark forest.

"The forest is larger than most realize and contains nearly as many dangerous creatures and plants as the Forbidden Forest. It is very possible that they are either lost or injured," Severus answered, refraining from adding the last possibility. That they were dead.

"Do you think that the Malfoy boy could still be leading him into a trap? We've had reports that Bellatrix is leading the attack and we know from your information earlier in the summer that she had been training him. They could be working together."

Severus frowned, Bellatrix was hard to predict because the woman was utterly mad. Hopelessly devoted to the Dark Lord, her passion was fueled by the desire to cause and spread pain to others. She had shown in the past that she was loyal to her sister Narcissa but she had no patience for incompetence of weakness- both of which Draco had demonstrated to her during their training sessions.

"Bellatrix won't be happy that the plan was interrupted- regardless of the reason. She is a woman that believes in harsh punishment, mostly just so she is able to administer it. My guess would be that she would aim to hurt Draco if only to teach him a lesson. If she were wise she would wait until Potter was secured by her master but Bella's weakness is her impatience as well as her overconfidence. She will not need Draco to get to Potter and she knows it."

"Which means she's forcing the Malfoy boy to work with Harry and against her," Kingsley gathered with a firm nod of his head at this information.

Severus inclined his own head, "I cannot be certain but that is my belief."

"We need to find them," Lupin interjected impatiently. "We should be getting more people and spreading out around the perimeter."

Severus used every ounce of his considerable will power not to roll his eyes. Honestly it was times like this than he would have actually preferred to work with Potter. He had always been the sensible one. Black had possessed raw genius when it came to magic but it was Potter's grasp of both finer details and actual common sense that had made the Marauders the fabled heroes of their youth. It was times like this then it was very apparent why Lupin was the only Marauder to have to study for end of term exams.

Well to be honest it made no difference if Pettigrew studied or not, he had always been utterly pathetic. Pettigrew had not managed a single grade over an acceptable.

"There are not enough people to do such a thing, especially not in light of the current situation," Severus explained.

"Current?"

"The Death Eaters are currently setting up camp in the town right on the other side of the forest, if Harry and Draco are stuck in the woods, there's a very good chance they could be headed right for it," Kingsley said in his usual calm manner. He was all business and had settled immediately into the role he normally would have taken as Auror- coolly assessing the situation from logistical standpoint. Weighing their assets and liabilities "There hasn't been overt attack yet but my guess is they're only waiting for Potter before causing a scene where the Aurors would be able to intervene. If we show our forces too early, or spread out thin, not only will we be provoking an attack on the village but we will be left with no tactical advantage. We'll be sitting ducks."

"If they make it to the village, do you think that Harry would think to be careful about who he asks for help?" Tonks asked, facing Lupin.

Lupin nodded, "Harry is clever and he's got a good eye for danger."

"Well he's certainly seen enough of it," Severus muttered.

"But do you think that being with the Malfoy boy will be an asset to him or a hindrance?" Kingsley asked. "I was under the impression that the two boys don't get along."

"They don't," Lupin sighed.

"Understatement," Severus confirmed.

"They should be able to recognize that they need to work together. If they can't put aside a stupid rivalry, that's their own faults!" Tonks said with a bit of uncharacteristic harshness. Severus raised an assessing brow as he eyed the metamorphmagus. The young Auror had a naturally cheerful disposition and would have ordinarily have been one of Potter's little cheerleaders but the events of the Ministry had affected them all greatly. Tonks herself had been injured but worse still was the fact that Lupin had taken Black's death hard and, if Severus' observations were correct, and they almost always were, it had caused a problem with the bludgeoning romance between the Auror and the werewolf. Evidently Tonks was taking her sexual frustrations out on Potter.

"If they can put their differences aside and work together it would be more impressive than most of the other Order members," Kingsley commented neutrally.

"We have to follow their trail into the woods," Catherine finally stated, as though she had been waiting for someone else to state the obvious. "Professor...Remus erm... it's the day after the Full Moon do you think..." she blushed as though she was uttering something dirty, "do you think you could still catch their scent?"

Lupin blinked at her question before nodding. "Yes. Usually the day after a Full Moon I spend recovering so I haven't used my full...abilities as they were for a long time but...I know Harry well enough that I could do it."

"Why not enlist some of your former...friends would you call them?" Severus baited.

Lupin's eyes glowered and for a moment they looked positively yellow- the inner wolf coming through.

"I wouldn't talk about things that you have no way of understanding Snape."

Severus raised an eyebrow but said nothing, idly noting the return to the use of his surname as the form of address, something the man hadn't done since their early twenties. Now was not the time to address this, Severus knew that, but the horrific events of the night still played in his mind, the viciousness of the werewolves. He remembered the tendrils of fear that had run down his back and clenched his stomach. Wolves that were fully cognizant of themselves after taking wolfsbane so that they could target their prey with calculated precision. It was a nightmare of his teenage years come to life. And with it came memories of the final year of the First War.

Severus was more than aware that he had known little of the complicated dynamics of the Order members- particularly those involved in the Marauders- during the last years of the war. Shifting loyalties, escalating danger. It had been all too easy for Severus to spend years blaming Black for Lily's death. Righteous even, to blame the man that he had hated for years for purposely turning on his best friend in the world. Proving that Severus was not the true villain, that Black's crimes had been worse than any other Death Eater It had been much easier than blaming himself for being the one to set the madman on his...on the one woman that he had ever loved.

But then he had learned that things had been even more complicated than he had known. Lies, decoys, secrets. Black had not been the secret-keeper... and Lupin had never been told. Lupin had once spent a very long year in the company of the very wolves that had feasted on muggles and children the night before. Now was the not the time, not when time was short and Lupin was barely in control of himself but he would get his answers. He would know why Potter and Lily had suspected the friend that had always seemed the least inclined towards cruelty...but had also never stopped it.

HPHPHPHP

They had been walking for quite a ways. Catherine had been adamant about coming to help but with her condition, the use of too much magic was dangerous and there was no telling how much defensive magic they would need in the woods. She had been left to coordinate with the muggles and remain at Prince Manor in case the boys circled back. Severus had given her the instructions on how to use a patronus to send a message and hoped she would be able to rely them to Potter. They should have taught the boy the Order's means of communication a long time ago, with the boy's predilection for finding himself in the most extraordinary of circumstances he found it an unusual lapse in oversight on the Headmaster's part not to foresee the boy's need for it. He had known that Potter could create a corporeal form but after the events of the previous night he was forced to admit that Potter's patronus was among the strongest he had ever seen. It didn't even have the silvery sheen that most forms took, instead the boy's enormous stag was a brilliant shimmering white. Severus was not sure what he should take away from that revelation and chose not to think about too closely.

Once they had started into the dark woods, Lupin had quickly found the scent and deduced that the Von Drake girl with in fact was them. It was a help actually. Werewolves had a strong aversion to the scent of vampires but it was also a potent smell to them, which meant that the trail was all the easier to follow.

The suspicion that the boys had gotten themselves lost was confirmed by the overlapping scents and mixed paths of human traffic throughout the forest. Though Lupin was certainly helpful, the others were able to spot quite a bit on their own. Neither boy had thought to be careful in hiding their tracks, soft earth had left footprints, the vegetation revealed clear signs of disturbance. He was not surprised by the lack of foresight on Potter's behalf. Potter was about action, not planning or caution. He would give Potter credit for one thing- unlike his father and his group of miscreant friends or even the Headmaster- there was no question that the boy was a true Gryffindor. Rash and fearless, one cannot get upset with a penguin when they cannot fly like other birds.

In this case, it was Draco that was the disappointment. Draco had been placed in Slytherin before the hat had even fully touched his head, and yet for all of his ambition and love of status, the boy continually showed a lack of cunning. He was going to have a talk with that boy when he got a chance, and place it in the terms of self-preservation that would appeal to a Malfoy.

They had passed by a cave and according the Lupin the scent was concentrated enough to make him believe that they had stayed there for the night. Lupin frowned in thought but did not say anything.

"What is it?" Tonks asked, gently coming up on his side and touching his arm. Lupin stepped away. It was a deliberate rebuke of her presumed closeness and a flash of hurt crossed the young Auror's face. "It's hard to tell after so long but like I said I think they were here for a quite a while..." Lupin bit his lip before saying, "it smells like fear. I don't smell any blood and I... well it's been too long to tell anything, hell if it weren't the day after the Full Moon it would be far too late ago to tell anything but I'm almost positive that one of them is afraid of something but I'm not sure about what."

Severus rolled his eyes, "yes the fact that they running from a massacre inflicted by Dementors and werewolves was hardly reason for fear."

Lupin snarled, "I'm well aware of that but this is...different. Concentrated. I've been smelling sweat and panic and closer to the start of the woods I smelled desperation- but this is just...different."

"Probably a creature that startled them. You said you didn't smell blood so I would imagine that they got away," Kingsley said reasonably.

Lupin nodded but it seemed as though something was bothering him. Severus had a guess. Lupin had said that _one_ of them had been scared, not all of them. And if Severus were to wage a guess, it had been Draco. He knew that when he had been younger, the boy had never liked small spaces. Draco had not been punished often as a child, if anything he had been given entirely too much free reign, but on the occasions when he had been disciplined they had left an impression. Severus was not sure what the connection to small spaces was but he knew that was where the fear originated from. He had believed that the childish fear had gone away with age but from Lupin's reaction apparently it had gotten far worse. Severus had always assumed that cramped spaces had merely made him uncomfortable but now he wondered if the boy was truly phobic of them.

"If they spent the night here this must have been where they originally set off to go home. They would have stayed until morning and as soon as the sun was up they would know they would be safe from werewolves. From here they must have travelled west back to the village," Severus pointed out instead of allowing the others to dwell too much on the mysterious fear that was pervading the cave. He knew that Draco was sensitive about this particular weakness and wondered how he had managed to handle himself in front of Potter. And if he had been unable to conceal his fear, how Potter had reacted. He knew precisely how Potter Senior and Black would have reacted to any perceived weakness of his own, but he was beginning to see that Harry Potter was of a different ilk. His thoughts trailed back to the afternoon in the shop when Potter had been affected so strongly by the anti-magic wards, and how his simple statement regarding Catherine Grant's illness had brought a genuine smile to her face and a relieved slump of her shoulders when she had realized that Potter was not going to give the same trite responses that even he himself had given when he had first learned of her illness and had been asked to consult as a potion's expert. Potter had a... way with people that Severus had never recognized before.

They walked for quite a bit longer. The sun getting lower on the horizon and the need to find the boys before dark was becoming paramount.

"Severus come look at this," Kingsley called out. "It's been a while and I was never a particularly good Herbology student but is that what I think it is?"

Severus looked down at the blood splattered green leaves and felt the blood rush out of his face. He felt dizzy for a moment and for the first time in many years- with the exception of the heart-stopping moment when the Dark Mark had burned once more after thirteen years and he knew that Potter had not come out of the maze- Snape felt his knees go weak. He caught himself but instead of answering out loud he could only manage a nod.

 _Phantasies interius_ , one of the very worst poisons to die from. The pain was supposedly unbearable. Almost as bad as the Cruciatus, people had been known to go mad from it. Though whether the madness was truly from the pain or from the hallucinations and later the forced impulsiveness it really was impossible to say. The poison spread fairly quickly and at a certain point the effects could be irreversible on the mind.

"There is a significant amount of blood in the area, assuming that this came from a fairly large wound and the entire area was affected, whomever was imbued with the poison probably has only a few hours at best before they...succumb to the affects," Severus said, his voice uncharacteristically hoarse.

"This is Harry's blood, I'm sure of it," Lupin declared tightly. The werewolf was full of tension and once again Severus feared that the man was not fully in control of himself.

"Can you get a clearer scent with the poison in the blood?" Tonks asked.

Lupin frowned and sniffed deeply before nodding in the direction of the stream, "I think they were walking around the slope here."

"We need to hurry, even if the poison has not reached the lethal stage, if the infected is exposed to hallucinations for too long than the victim often finds it impossible to ever fully distinguish between fantasy and reality again," Severus explained even as he set off in the direction Lupin had indicated. His heart was beating fast in his throat, his stomach tight with tension. For all of the times Potter had gotten himself in some ludicrously dangerous situation, this felt... different. Perhaps if he had time to properly examine his thoughts he would notice that for the very first time he was not merely concerned with his promise to Lily... but was genuinely worried for Harry Potter.

The sun was setting and they quickened their pace by unspoken agreement. It was not much longer before they heard it.

There was a deafening gong-like sound that shook entirety of the hillside.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Tonks asked.

"Death Eaters?" Kingsley asked with a frown, they had hoped that the attack would have held off till full darkness.

"Had to have been," Lupin answered.

Severus frowned, to him that sounded like a spell hitting a particularly powerful Shield Charm, but that would mean...

"We have to go, we need to apparate to the Northern village, Maple Hollow. Right now," he added, turning on the spot before anyone could argue.

Severus and the others apparated right behind the tree line and heard immediately the sounds of battle. Curses were reigning and it was clear that the Death Eaters had established a tight perimeter. There was a slope of a hill that blocked their view and protected their entrance. No one had noticed their arrival and the rescue team approached carefully, scouting out how best to intercede. Disillusioning themselves, they crept closer, quick but silent.

Severus cleared the hill, raising his wand, he prepared to rescue his wayward students when there was clash of spellfire. No less than five curses hit a solid shield like a bomb and Severus' long hair billowed back along with his black robes. Tonks had stumbled in surprise just as there was another flash of angry orange light, the illusion of fire lighting up the darkening sky. And then he could see them. Potter was straining against the onslaught, Draco and the young vampire girl all but cowering behind him, leaving it to Potter alone to push back against terrible odds, his face dripping with sweat, his eyes alive with a kind of dark malice that Severus had never seen in those green orbs before now. And suddenly all the noise from the battle felt like a distant roar because Snape's entire consciousness was consumed by long forgotten words.

" _The one with power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches, born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies..."_

He had never heard the rest of those fated words, nor had he ever before truly believed in them, but in that moment Severus would have sworn that the next line would have read: _and the Dark Lord will learn to fear him._

Power. Sheer uncontrollable power poured off of the boy... the _man_ in front of him, and Severus was left to stare at the sight with a feeling of...inadequacy. Potter was faced off against five different spells but his shield was holding strong.

It was not that what the boy was doing was an impossible feat. He had seen the Dark Lord, before his fall, before he had been reborn into whatever he was now, hold off against as many as 10 Aurors at once. Severus had heard legend that Grindlewald had once battled his way through a street in France that was surrounded by international forces that had tried to ambush him. The carnage of the day was something that was supposedly a standard warning for new Auror recruits around Europe who thought that sheer numbers would always subdue the target.

Therefore the fact that Potter was holding strong under multiple spells was not the truly impressive thing- it was the look in those brilliant green eyes. Eyes that for the moment did not look anything like Lily Evan's eyes. Eyes that were the exact color of the Killing Curse and were burning with the same determination and lack of mercy that the curse needed to fuel it.

For the first time in years Severus found himself unable to move forward, unable to decide what to do. From his position on the tree line the (other) Death Eaters had still not noticed his presence and his abrupt halt had caused the others to stop behind him. He heard a sharp intake of breath from Tonks and knew that the woman was just as surprised by the scene in front of them as he was. Lupin went to press forward but Tonks pulled him back, her finger on her lips.

"We don't want to walk into something before we know we're not making things worse," Shacklebolt said, his deep voice low, his gaze intense.

"Making things worse? He's outnumbered by Death Eaters! He's facing off against Bellatrix for Merlin's sake!" Lupin hissed back, but at least he had kept his voice down.

"And he's currently expending a tremendous amount of energy. If he switches to the offensive there's a good chance that he's not going to be control. Look at the boy's eyes Remus! Look at this robes! He's covered in _phantasies interius,_ its frankly amazing that he's still upright. There's no way he'll be able to distinguish between friend and foe right now. We need to be careful- for his sake."

Severus nodded, his gaze still locked on the teenage warrior that was currently firing back curses, his face twisted into a fierce scowl of anger. He was trembling slightly, his wand wavering ever so slightly from the wracking pain that the poison was causing. Severus suspected that adrenaline alone was keeping him going at this point. The fearsome sight had the confidence of the attackers flagging. They had come to realize that they were not fighting against a small, unprepared student but rather a slightly deranged fighter that was not even able to hold back at the moment if he had wanted to.

Vicious curses escaped Potter's wand. _Reducto. Diffindo. Confingo_. Spells that the boy would never dare use in combat if he were fully in control of himself.

If there was any doubt that the Death Eaters had failed to notice the threat that Potter had become, it was snuffed out by the response of Bellatrix Lestrange. Gone was her normal teasing tone, her simple joy at the chance of being able to cause hurt.

"Ready for another lesson in the Dark Arts Potter? You weren't very successful the last time?" she asked, her voice chipped and harsh as she slashed her wand at the impenetrable wall that was Potter's shield.

"I came for the practice!"

The spells collided and deflected, Potter rolling to the side. "You won't get him again Bellatrix! I won't let you kill Sirius!"

The madwoman cackled, "'ittle baby Potter misses his godfather, doesn't he? Crazy boy can't see that he's already gone!" She shifted slightly allowing for a clean shot and Lupin did not hesitate. Nothing less than superb skill could save her- skill that Bellatrix unfortunately possessed. She blocked the spell, discovering their position. The disillusionment charm protected him in the heat of the battle and Severus shuffled 25 meters or so to the right, trying to think how best to approach the situation. He could not overtly help Potter and hope to keep his position as a spy but with the sheen of sweat he could see pouring off the boy and the way he swayed on his feet, the Gryffindor was not going to be able to hold on for much longer. He had never sworn to protect the Order at all costs, he had sworn to protect Lily's son or die trying. Never before had felt the conflict of his position so keenly.

Potter blasted Rickerson, a younger less experienced recruit right off his feet and turned his wand on Bellatrix. "Leave him alone!"

Bellatrix was swift with her defense, sending out a fireball aimed at the boy. Severus growled in his throat at her stupidity and foolishness. No one was supposed to kill Potter except the Dark Lord but Bellatrix was incapable of restraint. She had always been cruel and vicious but her time in Azkaban had truly unhinged her. She had no patience, no control. She was a liability to any plan sans direct mass murder.

"Harry run!" Lupin shouted, as he fired his own spells, Tonks and Shacklebolt right behind him. Draco was pulling the little vampire back towards the forest while she seemed to struggle between following as quickly as possible and staying with her defender and protector. Severus had just enough time to register his sheer surprise at the fact that a Malfoy was helping a non-human before his attention was drawn back to the battle.

"YOU have to go! Stop trying to rescue me while I'm trying to protect you!" Potter shouted ridiculously in Lupin's direction, his bright green eyes beginning to glaze slightly. Severus wondered if the boy truly knew where he was or who he was addressing. He had a feeling that the boy was back in the Department of Mysteries... speaking to his now-dead godfather.

Severus raised his wand to blast her back with enough force to knock her out when his mark seared and Potter cried out with a gasp. And suddenly he was there, present in his black as midnight robes and every bit as terrifying as when Severus had first seen him after his resurrection. He shrunk back, telling himself that it was the prudent move, that he needed to maintain his cover, but knowing that a large part of him was grateful for reason to avoid open defiance. Severus had spent the last year lying to the man's face and the last 15 years lying to everyone around him but he had never openly fought against the Dark Lord, and often wondered if he would have strength to do so if the time came for it.

Tonks and Lupin had frozen in their tracks their wands trembling up still upright against the monster. Shacklebolt was steadier, but his eyes were wide and breath just a bit quicker than it had been mere moments ago.

Potter was unmoved.

"Harry Potter..." the Dark Lord breathed, his monstrous face only ever showed one emotion- hate- but leveled at Potter it burned with increased intensity.

"Tom Riddle..." Potter answered, his voice slightly hoarse but still steady.

The red eyes blazed with anger but only for a moment because his eyes had taken in the blood soaked robes, the green remnants of the _Phantasies interius_ still visible on them. "Dead men can be as bold as they please Harry Potter, you will left with nothing in a few minutes. I could let you walk away now and you would die a terrible death... but I am a man that always pays his debts Harry Potter and I have promised your death for a very long time," he hissed with something that resembled a smile on his snake-like features. He was twirling a wand between his fingers and it took a moment for Severus to realize what was strange with what it was seeing- it was the wrong wand. It was not the lighter color of his yew wand but a darker mahogany. It looked to be Rookwood's wand.

"You will die today. By my hand. And do you know what I'm going to do the moment you're gone?"

"Go celebrate with all your close friends... oh wait...sorry," Potter answered flippantly and Severus was sure that even by Potter's standards the poison had reached its final stages, uncontrollable impulsiveness. There was no filter to his words, no fear left him in. For a boy as foolish as Potter to begin with, this was a terrifying concept.

"I'm going to kill every single one of your little friends. I will kill them and they will scream so loud perhaps even in death you'll hear him."

"You can try, but you've been trying to kill me for years and you've been pretty terrible at it. My friends are a lot better than me Tom. I wouldn't be go after them if I were you."

The Dark Lord snarled and the dreaded words fell from his lips before Severus could even think of intervening. He stood, impotent. Useless. A failure to his vow to his Lily as the green light hurtled towards its target with nothing to stop it.

Severus felt his knees buckling long the light could connect, as though everything had slowed down and his breath caught in his chest but he had just enough air to gasp aloud when golden flames erupted from Potter's wand, smashing the wand in the Dark Lord's hand to pieces.

There was a piercing high scream of both pain and frustration. Fury built in the eyes of the madman and for a moment Severus believed that the man might blow up the very hillside- and then he was gone. A flash of black smoke and it was as though he had never arrived. Seconds later the Death Eaters were gone after their master as well and the Order members were left shocked at what they had just witnessed. Unable to believe that they were safe after the appearance of the most feared wizard in the world. All of them coming to the same realization- that they had had been saved by Potter while they had effectively stood and watched. It was over.

And then Potter screamed. And screamed. And Severus knew that he had been overcome with the poison. They might be too late.

 **A/N: So I know the beginning part with the muggles in town falling all over themselves to help Harry after three weeks of knowing him is a bit crazy. It's meant to be a bit of a hyperbole.**

 **As many of you guessed this is the turning point for Snape. My main goal with this was story was to create a situation in which Snape was forced to recognize that the idea that he had of Harry was very different from the reality without using the cliché of him finding out that Harry was abused by the Dursleys and merely feeling pity for him. This is for two reasons: First I always felt that that scenario did a disservice to Harry because instead of looking at the merits of who he is and what he's done, the change is based on what has been done to him. And second because unless you count the stories that really go well beyond canon in the abuse and make the Dursleys truly horrific monsters, I've never been quite convinced that Snape would care. Snape strikes me as the type to constantly believe that he has had it worse than other people. His pain his greater, his contributions greater but all the more unappreciated. I'm not saying that he would approve or be happy with way Harry was treated but whereas Harry's reaction to someone experiencing what he had would be to stop it, Snape would be more likely to feel that if he had survived it, than someone else could too. My thought was by having a bunch of muggles that know nothing about 'Harry Potter' come to love him so quickly, Snape would be forced to think that he had been missing something.**

 **Sorry to disappoint some people but although this is the turning point, initially not much is going to change. Draco has a lot of thinking to do about everything but he is still convinced that he wants to be a Death Eater and he needs to avenge his father. Harry's relationship with him will be difficult for them to define. They don't like he each other and will never be real 'friends' but can be allies and, on Draco's part, there is a feeling of respect, especially for the kindness Harry showed over his claustrophobia. However, there is also a bit of embarrassment as well so in typical teenage boy fashion he will also want to show his rival that he is strong too.**

 **For Snape it will also be difficult because my take on his character is that he literally doesn't know how to sustain a functional relationship. After Lily he shut down and (as one reviewer put it best) Occlumency has helped him to block all emotion so that he has never dealt with anything appropriately. When he sees that Harry has this ability get people to truly care about him because he is a good person, he's forced to recognize that he has been wrong about a lot of things. And Snape doesn't like to be wrong.**

 **Also this is the chapter that relates back to the title...the 'awakening power' which is two-fold. One is the obvious, Harry is a powerful wizard in his own right and is only beginning to fully come into that power. But two, Harry has the power to influence people. There are purposeful parallels between Harry and Tom Riddle in the books and not the least of which is their leadership skills. Harry inspires loyalty and with a war going on and a school full of kids with undecided loyalties that will be important. It's also important to note that Harry is not fully aware of his skills or strength in either of these forms but the question is: what will ultimately stop Voldemort? A fighter strong enough to challenge him directly or a leader that will inspire an army to fight for him?**

 **Summer in this fic is finally almost over and Hogwarts is coming!**


	14. A Slow Rebuilding

**Chapter 14 : A Slow Rebuilding**

There was a darkness. And pain. Vaguely he felt something holding him down and words that meant nothing were being spoken by voices that he didn't recognize. He wasn't sure how much time passed because there were moments when he couldn't remember anything before the pain.

He felt himself saying words but he had no conscious thought of what he was saying. Was he saying them out loud? Was he whispering or shouting? It was impossible to know. Random thoughts filtered in and then out again. He didn't know where he was but there was a sense of fear. Or was it something else... He wasn't even sure of himself- how he felt or even who he was. He moaned and then whimpered or maybe he did nothing- nothing seemed to envelop his whole being at the moment. A sense of unreality. Sand falling through his hands. He felt himself falling, falling into a deeper darkness than what he had been in before and he was grateful for it. In the blackness there was no pain and it was with relief that he felt the confusion melt away.

Slowly he felt himself wake up, pulled up as though from a great depth and it took a great amount of strength to realize that there was a conscious world waiting for him to open his eyes. He could hear someone else talking, this time someone familiar.

"…care about you. You take as much time as you need, we'll be here for you and when you wake up, we…we can help you…" it was faint and Harry struggled to think about who could be talking to him. Who wanted to help him? There were so few people who would tell him that they cared about him. The first person that he could think of was, "…Sirius?" his voice was weak and breathy. Barely more than a whisper but as soon as he spoke, the other voice went still and silent. There was a beat of silence, something hesitant.

Finally a whispered reply. "Sirius isn't here, Harry…can you open your eyes?"

Harry grunted softly and turned his head slightly on the pillow that was cradling his head. He let out a slow breath but for the moment kept his eyes closed, it seemed much too hard to open them just now. He winced as bright light streamed through a crack in his eyelids.

"Let me close those blinds, it's too bright in here, don't you think?" a second voice said, this one full of forced cheer, Harry could hear a watery strain underneath.

"Mm-Mrs. Weasley?" he asked softly, his eyes fluttering open tiredly. He didn't lift his head but his finger twitched once before settling wearily once more on the bed.

"Yes dear, that's right. How are you feeling?"

Harry released a weak cough, "tired."

"Are you in pain?" the first voice asked, it sounded tight with tension.

"Not so much anymore. It… Remus?"

There was look of relief on Remus' face when he finally identified him, though Harry was not quite sure why the ex-professor would be so relieved that Harry knew who he was. Harry's eyes closed for another moment before he gave another small cough and forced himself to stay awake a bit longer. "Where am I?" he asked, moving his eyes instead of his head to glance around the white, sterile room that he was in. The room was bare, with the exception of a small table next to the bed and a window that was currently shaded.

"St. Mungo's."

Harry frowned trying to remember for a moment why that surprised him, he was very obviously ill at the moment. The events that had led him rushed back to him, flickering through his mind like shuttering horror film. He had been at a party…no that wasn't right there was something else. There had been trees at the party. He wasn't sure, everything felt far away. Had he been asleep very long? He couldn't be sure. There had been someone after him, someone evil… "Vo-Voldemort?"

"You're safe for the moment. There are two Aurors outside of the room and officially no one knows that you're here anyway. The Order has been very careful," Remus assured him. Harry gave a small nod of understanding, his eyes closing again.

"Do you remember what happened, Harry?"

Harry sifted slightly, his legs cramping from lying flat on his back but he lacked the energy to fully turn onto his side as he would have preferred. He gave a slow nod as more memories from the past few days… _was it the past few days or had he been out longer than that?..._ came back to him. Everything was muddled together and his memories seemed to slide away from him. He struggled for a moment, caught between the task of thinking and actually speaking. He didn't think it was normally this hard to talk. Maybe it always was and he had forgotten. He remembered the girl.

"Kaylee, is she alright?" He asked them, forcing himself to look them in the face for the answer when his heavy eyelids seemed determined to close on their own. He realized from the look on their faces that it had taken him longer than he thought to answer.

Mrs. Weasley gave him thin, tired smile, "she's just fine dear. You did a wonderful job of protecting her. And Draco Malfoy is safe as well."

Harry frowned for a moment, "Malfoy? What?" Why was the Slytherin with him? He hadn't been at Hogwarts…

Remus looked uncomfortable and glanced uncertainly in Mrs. Weasley's direction, who seemed only capable of unnecessarily smoothing his bedcovers at the moment. "I was with Snape…" Harry whispered, more memories coming back to him and he wondered how he could have forgotten. Everything seemed to be such a mess in his mind. Random thoughts seemed to swirl through him as he struggled to ground himself in the conversation.

"Right, Malfoy, sorry I don't know how I forgot that," Harry muttered his voice still hoarse and bit painful. He also felt rather embarrassed that he couldn't remember something as obvious as where he had spent the past month. "He's safe? Oh well thank Merlin for that," Harry said drily, though in truth he was pleased that he had been able to keep his word to the Slytherin.

Harry thought back to everything and wondered what could make the two adults in the room look at him so frightened and pale, "the thorn bush…it was poison, wasn't it?" he asked quietly. It was one of the last very clear memories that he had, after the deep cut into his side, the green venomous liquid seeping in, everything became hazy- a swirl of confusion, mixed with sounds, smells and colors. More sensation than memory.

Remus and Mrs. Weasley exchanged another uncomfortable glance, which Harry could not quite interpret. He could not see the point in them not wanting to discuss it now that he was safe and recovering, unless…

"What's wrong? Did they not fix it?"

"Harry dear…"

"The Healer is going to talk to you in a bit," Remus interrupted.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked a bit sharply.

"Nothing's wrong dear," Mrs. Weasley fussed worriedly, smoothing his bedclothes unnecessarily once more.

"You don't make it sound that way Mrs. Weasley. If something is wrong with me, I should get to know about it," Harry felt that his argument was being impeded by the fact that his voice was still thin and whispery and he knew better than to even try and sit up, even moving his head was an effort.

"We don't know very much at the moment, Harry," Remus told him quietly, "but the Healer did stress to us that you need to stay calm when you woke up. We're not hiding anything from you because the truth is we don't have any real information."

Harry frowned at the carefully worded statement. Harry believed that Remus was telling the truth, they didn't _know_ anything was wrong, but they had most definitely been given at least one, possibly multiple things, to be concerned about and they were not about to share any of them with him. Harry was quiet for a moment, taking in the pale, pinched expressions and forcing himself to accept that they had been worried about him, and from the looks of it, it had been, at least, a few days of strain.

"When everything calms down and you know that I'm going to be alright, will you tell me everything that you were worried about?"

"Harry," Mrs. Weasley started uneasily. Remus only looked surprised at the question.

"I understand Mrs. Weasley, you're worried that if you tell me everything now that I'll get worked up or stressed or whatever and that could cause problems so I don't need to know everything now, but I would feel better if I knew that you trusted me enough to promise to tell me later." Harry was aware that it was a bit manipulative to play the 'piece of mind' card when they had just told him they were worried about his state of mind in order to get information but he wasn't going to feel guilty about taking charge of his life.

Remus' mouth twitched and Harry knew that the werewolf was very much aware of what Harry was doing, nevertheless the older man nodded. "I will tell you everything you want to know as soon as I get an all clear from your Healer- and not before, deal?"

Harry nodded tiredly. Scheming was exhausting.

"Can you at least tell me how long I've been here? Or…what happened after I passed out?"

Mrs. Weasley looked as though even this much information was too much for his fragile psyche but Remus placed a calming hand on her arm and spoke up, "You didn't miss anything after you passed out. The Death Eaters had largely scattered at that point." He paused a moment. "Do you remember Dumbledore showing up?" he asked a bit hesitantly.

Harry frowned, his thoughts still muddled and hard to focus, after a moment he shook his head, "no I think the last thing I remember is Voldemort showing up. My wand..." Harry didn't finish, his mind caught in the hazy memory of those golden flames.

"Dumbledore was able to drive off Voldemort with an impressive spell. I've never seen it before but it scared the Death Eaters so much that they fled as soon as their leader was gone. Good thing too because... well, you were…obviously injured," Remus glanced at Mrs. Weasley as though to say that this was not relating anything that Harry did not already know and Harry once again wondered what the two of them were hiding. "And it was serious enough that we couldn't treat you in the village. You needed… we had to get you to St. Mungo's which we did with an emergency Portkey, thank Merlin that Kingsley was with us, all Aurors carry one that will transport them directly to Emergency in the event that one of them is severely injured. And to answer your other question…that was four days ago. We were actually very relieved that you woke up today," he was cut off from saying more by a glare by Mrs. Weasley which Harry took to mean that the Healers had told them to expect him to be unconscious for much longer.

Except… Harry wasn't sure that 'unconscious' was the right word to describe the state he had been in for the past four days. He had been knocked out plenty of times but this was different. He remembered the pain and swirl of confusion that had been around him. The word 'delirium' crossed his mind and wondered if that was what he had experienced, it would certainly explain the worried, anxious expressions that he was facing now.

"Dumbledore fought Voldemort?" Harry asked uncertainly. He could remember the feel of his wand pulling his arm, of it acting independently of his chaotic thoughts. By the end of the battle, Harry had been fading quickly, the poison draining away his strength and his very sanity. But the sensation that had shot through that thin piece of wood and up his arm had been such a strange, startling feeling that it had been like a shot of clear water into a murky pond.

Lupin frowned deeply his eyes troubled as Mrs. Weasley turned quickly to pour him another glass of water. "You don't remember him being there, Harry?" he asked again, his voice tight with emotion.

Harry shook his head, feeling unsettled. Perhaps what he had felt had only been a dream that he had had while in that strange delirium.

They were interrupted by a short, formal tap on the door. "We were informed that Mr. Potter was conscious and lucid, we would like to examine him if you don't mind," a tall, wiry man with a familiar lilt to his voice said- the man was from Surrey. He was accompanied by another Healer who was large and stocky- giving Harry another reason to remember his uncle, and there were also what looked like two strong body guards which Harry guessed were orderlies, his pulse quickened ever so slightly at seeing them and what it meant that two seemingly strong men felt that they needed back up to come and see him.

"If you wouldn't mind waiting out in the hall, or perhaps…visiting the tea room. We're going to need to do a rather lengthy exam and it might take a bit of time," the shorter, stocker man said. His voice was just as rough as his appearance and Harry stiffened at being left alone and vulnerable with them for a 'lengthy exam', Harry wasn't sure what that meant, but it didn't sound pleasant.

"Of course, I'll just go and tell the family that you're awake Harry dear, everyone will be so relieved that you're feeling better," Mrs. Weasley said, sliding her hand fondly down the side of his face and cupping his chin briefly as though he were a small child. The action was strangely touching to him.

"I'll just go to the tea room, can I bring Harry back a cake? I'm sure he must be hungry," Lupin asked the Healers. The two men glanced at one another in what Harry considered undue consideration before the taller man responded, "that would be fine, just nothing that is overly sugary and no tea for the moment, he doesn't need the caffeine."

Remus nodded and gave Harry what was obviously meant to be an encouraging smile but Harry found it rather ominous, though he supposed that could have just been his own nerves talking.

They left and Harry was alone with the team of Healers that were staring at him with appraising eyes. "Hello Mr. Potter, my name is Healer Gwynn and this is my partner Healer Nelton," the tall one said looking at Harry with a false smile that Harry supposed was meant to be comforting to his patients. "We've been treating you for the past few days. We're going to give you a potion that will help you stay awake and alert for a little longer, we need to ask you a series of questions, is that alright?"

Harry nodded, "yes sir," he agreed, feeling that the question was more for form's sake than an actual inquiry of how he felt, he couldn't imagine that they would have allowed him to refuse. Harry drank the potion, which was surprisingly not terribly disgusting and felt a surge of energy rush through him. He shifted and for the first time realized that his hands were being held down with padded restraints. He looked up at the Healers with vague alarm, wondering what had compelled them to strap him down like a muggle mental patient.

"Just a precaution," Nelton answered the unvoiced question gently. "your condition caused you to thrash about quite a bit, this was just to make sure you didn't hurt yourself without using additional magic on you. We'll remove them in a couple of minutes right after you can answer a couple of questions."

Harry nodded tightly, feeling nervous that if he answered anything wrong they would keep him chained to the bed.

"Can you tell us what happened before you came to hospital?" Gwynn asked as he pulled out a wand and began running it over Harry's body.

"Er…I don't know how much you want to know," he started nervously, feeling uncomfortable lying down while four strangers were practically bearing down on top of him. He knew that they were just doing their jobs and they must speak to patients like this all the time but Harry couldn't help but feel exposed and vulnerable. He could feel tendrils of magic rushing over him as both Healers ran their wands over him and the feeling was rather distracting.

"We would like to hear as much as you remember, from the beginning. We're trying to see if your memory was affected at all," Healer Nelton explained, despite the gruffness of his voice, his manner was more genuine than his partner who seemed to only play at being kind.

Harry nodded, "I was staying with Professor Snape since my relative's house…my Aunt and Uncle I mean… their house burned down. Draco Malfoy was also staying with him as well."

"And why was Mr. Malfoy also staying with a Hogwarts professor for the summer? Aren't those arrangements a bit unusual? Having not one but two students stay with a professor from Hogwarts over the summer?" Gwynn asked with a raised eyebrow and Harry wasn't sure if he was questioning the correctness of Harry's tale or else fishing for information. Either way Harry knew what he was about to say would not go over very well.

"I believe that's between Malfoy and Snape, you would have to ask them," he said as politely as he could. Nelton gave him a brief smile but Gwynn looked as though he was frustrated by the lack of information. So the man was fishing, that was interesting.

"Anyway, we were at a party held by someone in town, I guess they do it every year but there was an attack of werewolves and..." Harry knew that there had something else, something terrifying. He hated the fact that it was so hard to remember what should have been obvious information and that the Healers would know it. _Think Harry_ , he said to himself: _Why would you be scared?_ "and dementors. We ran for it and got stuck in the words. I was with Draco and a girl, Kaylee."

"A girl?" Gwynn asked pointedly, brow raised.

Harry frowned, "she's a vampire if that's what you're hinting at, but she's also a girl. She's young, only 8, and she needed help. We couldn't go back the way we came because it was closed off by the leaders of the werewolf clan that was leading the attack. There was only one path that we could take out without running into anything else in the forest…"

HPHPHPHP

Remus Lupin made his way slowly to the tea room. He was in no rush, not wishing to speak to anyone at the moment. With the Full Moon behind him, normally he would have recovered his strength by now but at the moment he felt as though he had just finished his most recent transformation. The last four days had been a hellish nightmare, seeming to last an eternity.

"Glad to see you taking a moment to yourself there, mate. You needed to take a kip for a bit," a friendly voice interrupted him. "Mum still in there?"

Remus looked up to see that Bill Weasley had stepped into the room, his blue eyes looking over him with concern. "No, actually she went to find the rest of your family. Harry's awake."

Bill's eyes widened, "really? That's bloody fantastic. I thought the Healers expected it be at least another few days."

"At least," Lupin muttered in agreement, frowning in thought.

Bill noticed the thoughtful expression and his own delight was tempered at once. "Is that a bad thing? Do you think waking up early could be…a problem? He is… lucid, right?" Bill asked worriedly.

Remus nodded hurriedly, "he certainly seems to be fine. Mentally at least. He knew who I was, who your mother was, what had happened." He paused for a minute before he told the oldest of the Weasley children the thing that had caused him a moment of pulse-stopping concern. "Before he opened his eyes he thought I was Sirius," he said quietly, not meeting the younger man's eyes.

Bill was quiet a moment. "Anyone could have done that when they first wake up. He still might have been part dreaming. I wouldn't read too much into it."

Remus nodded slowly, "Do you think I should tell the Healers?"

"I think you should let them talk to Harry and if they have concerns about him then mention it, if they seem to think that he's alright then I would chalk it up to a one off."

Remus nodded, his thoughts on the conversations that he had with the two Healers as well as the ones he and the other members of the Order had been having over the past few days. _Phantasies interius_ was a rare plant with a very potent and erratic poison. It was difficult to both detect and treat because it had such a range of symptoms and did not affect every wizard in the same way. The most common reactions to the poison were extreme pain, madness and death. The madness in particular was difficult in that the poison had been known to lay dormant in a person's symptom for weeks, months and (rarely) years at a time before it afflicted its victim. There had even been cases in which a patient was treated and supposedly cured, only for them to discover that traces of the poison had remained undetected. The worst part was the longer the poison remained 'dormant' the more potent it seemed to be once the victim was afflicted.

When Harry had collapsed at the end of the battle, the boy had been delirious with pain. Screaming, convulsing, shouting obscenities that had made more than a couple of trained Order fighters blush a bit uncomfortably. Remus himself was surprised that a boy Harry's age knew a few of those terms, but considering their decidedly muggle origin, he had a few guesses as to who had taught them to him. The following hours and days had been extremely hard. Harry had, at times, been seemingly conscious and yet had recognized no one. He had babbled incoherently, talking about things that were obviously connected to his life- Death Eaters, Sirius, the Dursleys- and things that seemingly had no relevance at all.

When he wasn't yelling or babbling, he was screaming in pain. They had needed to restrain him to prevent him from tearing his skin with his fingernails. It was heartbreaking to see a boy that was usually so kind and reserved, a boy that worked so hard to show the world that he was ready to be a man and carried himself with such self-possession, turn into a person that wouldn't have recognized himself in the mirror or and had been unable to control even the most simple of actions.

Remus poured himself a cup of chamomile tea and added two teaspoons of sugar.

"How does he seem to be coping? The Healer said he would probably be confused," Bill asked.

"He's very tired at the moment. Barely moved the whole time he spoke to us. I don't think he even noticed that his hands were in restraints."

Bill raised an eyebrow, "That's a pretty big thing not to notice. He was so tired he didn't even try to move his arms?"

Remus shrugged and sank gratefully into the squishy armchair. "He could barely keep his eyes open," he sighed and ran a hand over his tired face, holding back a yawn in spite of his worry. "They had removed the leg restraints when he stopped flailing in pain last night so he was able to shift positions but if he noticed anything strange about his arms he never said anything."

"They took off the restraints on his legs but not his arms?"

"They just wanted to be safe. The convulsions seem to have ended but his mental state was still unknown. The Healers brought in a couple of orderlies to help with the examination, I actually took it as a good sign that Harry seemed to be sharp enough to be surprised by their presence. He certainly appears stable to me. Even got me to promise to tell him everything when he realized that Molly and I were being rather evasive."

Bill let out a sharp laugh that for a moment reminded Remus painfully of Sirius' bark-like laughter, "well that's the Harry we all know and love. Has he been asking any questions?" he asked bit more anxiously.

Remus let out a long suffering sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose with both hands, his gut twisting with guilt. "As we all expected he's confused about what happened once he was confronted by Bellatrix and the others. I followed Dumbledore's advice... I told him that _Dumbledore_ was the one that fought off Voldemort."

Bill sucked in a sharp breath. The Order had been divided about this particular plan. While most of them still agreed that Harry was underage and should not be given privileged Order information, blatantly lying about his own involvement was something else entirely. Not to mention the small detail that they were essentially using his supposedly weakened mental state against him in order to ensure that he would believe them was a line more than a few of them had felt uncomfortable crossing. "What did he have to say when you told him that?"

"He looked confused. He said that he didn't remember Dumbledore being there, which of course he couldn't have, but...I got the impression that whatever he does remember he doesn't quite believe."

Bill nodded slowly, "well...we did agree that that part would be for the best, didn't we? Harry was... not in control and we all know how that can affect our magic. If he thinks he actually has this... unbelievable power that can take down Voldemort it's going to lead to disaster. I hate the fact that we have to lie to him but..."

Remus nodded, he agreed but he couldn't help but think about how angry Sirius would be at him for going along with this plan. Sirius would have been livid that they were hiding the truth from Harry when he had been the one to fight off Voldemort while the rest of them had been practically helpless. But that didn't change the fact that this was the best way to keep Harry safe. For all of Harry's good qualities, he was impetuous and there was quite honestly no way of knowing just how he might take the news that he had performed a spell that had shattered Voldemort's wand when there was no way of knowing if he was even capable of replicating such a feat when in full possession of his facilities. The Order had felt that safest course of action was to allow Harry to believe that it had been Dumbledore that had saved him rather than risk Harry believing that he could advance an attack against Voldemort before he was ready.

Bill seemed to sense that his mood had dropped and attempted to change the subject, if only slightly, "How long do you reckon the Healers are going to be with the exam?"

Remus shook his head, "I couldn't say. They said to expect them to be a while so I would guess…" he glanced at his watch and realized with some surprise that it had already been close to a half hour since he had left the room. "Maybe another half hour? Did they finally release the Malfoy boy?" he asked with a hint of concern.

Severus had found the boy and the little vampire girl hiding near the edge of the woods at the end of the battle. From their vantage point in the clearing they had been able to see most everything, including Harry smashing the wand in Voldemort's hand as though it were a play thing with the most impressive display of magic that most of them had ever seen. It appeared as though the appearance of the 'Dark Lord' was the last straw in the boy's mental reserves. After 24 hours of terror following the massacre of the previous night, the boy had broken down. Sobbing, unable able to catch his breath. He had also been taken to St. Mungos and forcibly sedated until he was asleep. The next day they had continued to administer Calming Draughts but once the poor kid had been able to see that he was safe he had gotten a hold himself.

"Yesterday actually. He seems to be fine to me, although I don't know him. Fred and George saw him and said they he seems to, to use their turn of phrase, 'had the wind taken out from under his broom'. He's staying with Snape until school starts, hopefully the professor will get him to talk it out."

Remus lifted his shoulder in a hopeful but skeptical gesture. 'Talking things out' had never been a strong suit for the Slytherin. He remembered that Lily had once told him, shortly after her friendship with Severus had ended for good, that she had never met a person more unwilling to examine their own problems. She had been frustrated and sad, and very, very fed up, but she had closed the subject by saying that she had finally accepted that she could not support a person that was so set on being willfully blind to actual solutions because they were so entirely set on only seeing obstacles and revenge.

Bill nodded and glanced at the door before asking, "So have you heard the latest from Kingsley? He's thinks that Emil Heilesen's going to try and put a stranglehold over the Ministry, use the war as battering chip to get what he really wants …"

HPHPHPHP

Cold hands felt his bare abdomen and Harry winced as three fingers poked him sharply in the side and he felt pain radiate outwards.

"Sharp or throbbing pain?" Gwynn asked for what seemed to be the hundredth time.

"Sharp, sir." Harry answered quietly, fighting to keep a whimper from his voice. The pain was building and he was trying hard not to complain any more than he thought was absolutely necessary.

Harry lay on his flat hospital bed, which had been transfigured with him still laying on it into a table, in nothing but his pants. After both Healers had thoroughly questioned him on his memory from before his collapse they had moved on to asking about facts regarding the rest of life. All kinds of questions, some personal, some things he had learned at Hogwarts.

 _What House did he live in at school? What was the levitation spell? How do you identify a werewolf? Who were his closest friends? What happened to his parents? Who did he live with outside of Hogwarts?_ There had been quite a few questions about the Dursleys and their treatment towards him. Harry suspected that one or both of them had read a couple of the _Prophet_ articles from the summer.

It was slightly disconcerting that these two Healers had seemingly quizzed various Order members for answers concerning his personal life but aside from their obvious curiosity about his childhood, at least nothing they had asked had been about anything that was particularly confidential.

After they had quizzed him they had moved on to the more physical examination. This had included several spells, potions, a few blood samples and more muggle methods, such as what the Healers were currently engaged in. True to their word, after the questions, and presumably Harry had proved that he was at least sane enough not attack anyone, the restraints had been removed. Harry had been surprised when he had realized that he had not only been restrained to the bed with padded cuffs but that he hadn't even noticed that his exhaustion alone was not the only thing keeping him in the bed. He remembered the feeling of being held down while his body had jerked and twisted in pain and therefore he could not claim that he was shocked by their appearance, but more so by their continued use after he had awoken. It did not escape his notice that neither Lupin nor Mrs. Weasley had seemed to want to take them off and that troubled him.

The Healers hands moved to probe more sensitive areas of his body and Harry felt himself flush a bit as he answered a few more professional questions. "Alright Harry, do you still feel nauseas?"

"Er…yeah a bit," Harry admitted as he finally felt the Healer step back from him.

He saw two clinical nods and Nelton gave him a brief smile, "that's to be expected. You did really well." Harry frowned, wondering how well he could have done having just laid there during the exam. Had they found something wrong? Had his answers to their questions been right? He knew that there had been a few gaps in his knowledge when it came to some the questions about how he spent his summer. That he had paused longer than he should have when it came to other questions. The longer that he had spoken the more had come back to him but he couldn't deny that he was more than a little worried about what he couldn't remember.

Nelton waved his wand and Harry was thankfully covered once more in hospital gown, the table was turned once more into a bed and the thin blanket was secured around him, the restraints remained, thankfully, absent.

"We have a course of potions for you to take and then you can get some rest, which I'm sure you're looking forward to," Healer Nelton added with another small smile, this one more patronizing than the previous.

"Wait," Harry said hurriedly, "can you tell me what's wrong?"

"Can I ask why you think something is wrong?" Healer Gwynn with what seemed to be characteristic suspicion.

"You just seemed to be looking too long for everything to be fine. And I know that it's not normal to have so many sharp pains," Harry directed his answer more towards the friendlier Nelton and his choice of confidant did not appear to go unnoticed. Harry hated the feeling that his every action was being evaluated and analyzed- as though they were searching for weaknesses to use against him.

Nelton nodded his acceptance of his reason before saying, "The plant that you were exposed to is called _Phantasies interius_ and it has some rather harsh symptoms and the tricky part is that in the past, patients had seemed to either be recovered or were very close to recovery when they would suddenly relapse. The fact that you seemed to respond to treatment fairly quickly concerns us because the illness could have become dormant. We're just trying to be thorough. Now, the good news is that your results are very encouraging but the downside is that you're still physically weak and obviously still in pain. This might be a long and at times frustrating recovery but again the positive is that you _are_ recovering. Your memory of past events appears to fairly solid though we will still have to test how well you are able to retain new memories after the exposure. Now rest is very important so you need to take your prescribed potions and when you wake up, you can look forward to another exam," he said with a bit of smirk.

"Another exam?" Harry asked with a mixture of disappointment and outright horror.

"Not as involved but this exam was merely a baseline, we need to see how quickly the poison is retreating in your system and we need to make sure that none of the potions you take now have an adverse effect."

Harry nodded and swallowed four very vile tasting potions, he didn't even remember closing his eyes before he fell asleep.

HPHPHPHP

Harry groaned tiredly, he didn't remember falling back asleep and blinked as he struggled to piece back together his conversations with Mrs. Weasley and Lupin and his exam with the Healers. His mind seemed to be in slow motion, each memory something he had to work to recover instead of them flooding back naturally.

"Feeling any better?" a quiet voice to his left asked and Harry turned to find Remus Lupin's kind, tired eyes watching him.

"Yeah," Harry answered absently, unsure if he was being truthful or not, it was hard to recall precisely how he had felt before. "Are you alright?" Harry asked taking in the fact that Lupin looked even more pale and tired than he usually did. His complexion almost looked grey, as though he was ill.

Lupin smiled wanly, "much better now that I know you're alright. You had us worried there for a while, Harry."

"Sorry for that," Harry sighed, shifting slightly, giving brief consideration to actually sitting up before disregarding this idea. "Didn't really expect to be attacked... yes I did!" Harry exclaimed, memory suddenly rushing back to him. Malfoy eyeing him with speculation, anticipation rising by the day until the night of the party. His scar burning hotly as Voldemort realized that his plans of murder had been thwarted once again.

"What?" Lupin asked, clearly startled.

"Malfoy... he was planning something. I know it."

Lupin looked nervous as he leaned forward and he licked his dry lips before saying. "Harry, Draco was just as surprised by the werewolf attack as you. I know for a fact that he was... he was quite upset about what happened."

Harry shook his head, his fractured mind struggling to put back together what he _knew_ he had figured out already.

"Not the werewolves, Malfoy was planning something else...Snape..."

"Harry," Lupin cut in, "I know you don't like Severus... truth be told while I will never loath him like Sirius or even James did, I don't like him much either," Lupin confessed candidly. "But he is on our side, I can promise you that much."

Harry shook his head once more, "I don't know how much Snape knew about it... I don't trust him but I don't..." Harry grunted with frustration. Ever since he had woken from whatever delirious state he had been in his thoughts been chaotic and memories hard to recall. He wasn't sure if he was forgetting something important but that didn't change the fact that he _knew_ that Malfoy had been planning something.

"I don't know if Snape was involved but Malfoy was definitely planning something. He's working for Voldemort."

"Harry... I saw Draco's arm myself when he came in. He isn't marked."

"Not all Death Eaters are," Harry answered reasonably. "I think the Dark Mark was going to be his reward for getting me."

Lupin frowned, his eyes troubled. "Harry... Don't be hasty in accusing someone of something without any proof. Draco is _16 years old_ , he has his whole future ahead of him, if you're wrong about this and report it, it will cause serious consequences for him. You need to be absolutely sure and at this point...all things considered, I don't see how you can be."

Harry frowned, unhappy with his concerns being brushed aside but reluctantly able to see Lupin's point. He nodded slowly, his thoughts still on his school rival.

"Harry... I wanted to tell you how sorry I am about Emil's pack. They... that never should have happened."

"Remus... you're not responsible for what other werewolves do...wait do you know them?" Harry asked realizing that Lupin had named the pack leader by his first name.

Lupin nodded slowly, his expression one of painful guilt. "Emil Heilesen. Alpha of probably the largest single werewolf pack in Great Britain, if you discount Fenir Greyback of course but then... Greyback is a monster of different proportions and has never led what one might consider a 'traditional pack'," Lupin added, his expression dark.

"Worse than the monsters that were attacking muggles and children while using Wolfsbane?" Harry asked, shocked. He had thought that he had seen some truly disturbing things in his life but the images of that night were nothing short of horrifying. The screams of terror...of pain. The blood and torn flesh of the victims that had not been able to either fight back of run away. The sheer viciousness of such a planned calculated attack. The image of Greg Tovins' lifeless, blank eyes and the knowledge that the werewolves had conspired with the darkest of creatures to do that.

Lupin drew in a sharp breath before glancing down at his hands. "I suppose for me with Greyback it's more personal. He was the one that bite me. I was four and at the time Wolfsbane had not even been invented so Greyback needed to use...more creative means to work his own agenda. He would position himself by whomever he wanted to attack- preferably small children, but really anyone that slighted or insulted him- and attack once he had transformed. For me it was my father that he was trying to get his revenge on, he wouldn't cave to his demands so he bit his son. Rumor has it, he has taken to attacking people on nights when the moon isn't even full, as though one time a month no longer satisfies the feral animal inside him."

Harry stayed silent, unsure how to respond to something had happened so long ago but still affected Lupin every month with the pain of his transformation and everyday with the discrimination that he faced in the Wizarding World.

"Last time, when Voldemort was powerful he had huge numbers in army, and not just wizards. Giants, Dementors, vampires and werewolves. The Ministry has a terrible of history in how they treat anyone they consider 'part human' and it makes anyone that challenges their authority rather sympathetic in their eyes," Remus winced as though even as he was explaining he wanted to apologize.

Harry nodded his understanding, "but... even though the Ministry is bad, they can't honestly think that Voldemort will really be any better, do they? He's obsessed with the idea purebloods."

Remus wavered before saying, "I think some of them are naïve enough to believe him at his word, desperate people will always want to believe that someone is capable of helping them and sometimes, I suppose, the idea is that some change is better than no change- without really stopping to consider what that change is even is. But for most it was about making an alliance and then negotiating with the winner. And you should understand that there is a reason why so many Slytherins sided with Voldemort-and it wasn't simply about blood. Slytherins are first and foremost self-serving and for quite a while it looked as though there would be a very clear winner...and it wasn't us.

"He had the numbers, the had the power, and he was seemingly immortal. He might have been afraid of Dumbledore but Dumbledore had also been unable to stop him for good. Voldemort was very close to toppling the Ministry, in many ways he had done far worse by simply destabilizing it as much as he had. People were terrified, I don't think I fully describe to you the relief that people felt after you destroyed him the first time. I know that you often feel either overwhelmed or annoyed by the attention you receive but for a people that lived in a constant fear for their very lives and the lives of their friends and family it was nothing short of a miracle to have such an unstoppable wizard finally defeated."

Harry digested that information. He had heard about the fear and brutality of Voldemort's brief reign ever since he had re-entered the Wizarding World and yet still there were times when he was not sure that he entirely understood. He had seen the cost of the war, his parents and his childhood at the Dursleys, but he had been spared the overriding fear of seeing the Dark Mark over his friends' houses and the feeling that they were fighting a losing battle. His respect for the original Order members grew as he realized what it meant for them to continue to fight even when it had appeared to be hopeless.

However, that limited ignorance was swiftly coming to an end. In the past couple of months, the number of attacks had been increasing significantly and Harry remembered more than a few _Prophet_ articles that had relayed that the Auror Corps were being overwhelmed. They had either been too late, outnumbered, or simply out-fought in almost every attack. It was clear that the Ministry was playing catch up rather than being able to provide a solid defense, never mind lead an offensive and Harry wondered how quickly Voldemort could get back to where he had been before he had attacked Godric's Hollow. If he had the support of the dark creatures it be that much easier for him. However, another thought occurred to him, "But the werewolves last night weren't with Voldemort," Harry said in confusion.

"No they weren't. I believe that Emil is attempting to use the fact that the Ministry is being overwhelmed to launch his own agenda. Rather than siding with Voldemort, he's allowing the two sides to fight one another, while he leads a third army to gain sovereignty over his own land. He hasn't announced his plans but he should know that he can't win an all out war, but he can get an act of attrition."

"Attrition?" Harry asked blankly.

Remus nodded, "meaning that both sides- Voldemort and the Ministry will be too preoccuried with fighting one another that they won't want to deal with a pack of wild werewolves that only want to keep their own land. They give them their own territory to essentially shut them up."

Harry nodded grimly. He didn't blame the werewolves for wanting their own land but the attack that they had launched on the peaceful village of Crescent Nest was unforgivable to him. "Do you know them?" Harry repeated quietly.

Remus shifted guilty. "During the First War I was responsible for trying to recruit werewolves to the Order causes or at the very least try to persuade them away from Voldemort's camp. I spent a lot of time with Emil's pack... I was friends with quite a lot of them," he admitted quietly. "Thought the people that I knew would have never considered blind siding an innocent muggle village alongside a horde of Dementors. I haven't spoken to them in years but I can't..." Remus shook his head, there was a mixture of sadness and incredible anger on his face. Harry rather thought that Remus felt betrayed by the fact that people he had once considered friends had done something so terrible. After his history with both Sirius and Pettigrew, Harry could understand why such a betrayal was so upsetting to him.

"It's not your fault that they did it," Harry said quietly.

"There's a lot that you don't know about them Harry. A lot that you don't know about me either, truthfully. I never expected this to happen but that doesn't excuse what I _did_ know," Remus said softly and Harry knew better than say anymore. Remus stayed quiet after that and the next thing Harry knew he had fallen asleep again. When he woke up, Remus had gone and later Mrs. Weasley told him that him that the ex-professor had had to leave for another mission and that he was sorry that he couldn't stay longer. Harry hoped that the man wasn't blaming himself for the actions of the other werewolves but was also disappointed that he had not stuck around to at least say good bye to him.

HPHPHPHPHP

The next few days passed in a monotonous stream of uncomfortable pain. Harry would wake up, one or both of the Healers would examine him and give him a few more potions. If he was lucky he would get a few minutes to talk to either Mr. or Mrs. Weasley or else another Order member that was apparently sent to watch out for him. With Lupin suddenly gone, no one seemed particularly eager to uphold the werewolf's promise to tell him everything that they had been concerned about with his condition. After the Healer's first, brief explanation that the recovery could take some time, no one had said anything about his condition.

The lack of information worried him, especially when he took into account that Mrs. Weasley seemed to be fussing over him even more than usual and there seemed to be unspoken concern hanging over the room, as though the Order members were waiting for some sort of inevitable bad news. He had the distinct impression that some of the answers that he had given during some of his exams had not been accurate but no one had ever corrected him. He was certain…almost certain… that all of his memories from before his poisoning were correct but when it came to answering more recent questions, like recalling conversations that he had just had, he found himself grasping for answers that he knew should have been easier to give.

It was nearing the end of August and he was due to go back to Hogwarts very soon, though no one had broached that topic with him yet. Mrs. Weasley had mentioned that she had once again obtained his school supplies, the Healers had even taken his measurements for new school robes as he had grown several inches since the previous year.

At the moment he was looking out of his window and Harry was just enjoying the fact that for the first time in days he was awake and not being questioned, poked, prodded, or otherwise having his privacy invaded by Healers nor was he being forced to drink disgusting concoctions or else eat terribly bland 'food' that supposedly adhered to the strict diet that he was temporarily on in order to ensure that nothing interacted inappropriately with his medicines.

There was a perfunctory tap on the door but, as Harry expected, the door opened without anyone waiting for Harry to say that they were welcome into the room. Hospital etiquette seemed to say that a knock was merely to announce one's presence, not to ask permission. The strange part of this was that it seemed to extend not simply to the Healers, medi-witches1 and Orderlies but visitors as well. Harry turned his head, hoping that it was at least Nelton and not Gwynn only to discover that it was neither. It was Ron. The first visitor that Harry had seen that was not an Order member.

Ron paused in the doorway, looking almost surprised to see Harry sitting there.

"Do I look that bad?" Harry asked with a grin.

Ron grinned at him, relief flooding into his expression, "No worse than you usually do," he shot back before sobering, "you just looked a bit thoughtful there. You alright mate? I can come back if you want to be alone."

Harry shook his head quickly, "God no. You're the first real visitor that I've had, besides your parents at least. And as much as I like to see them…"

Ron nodded, "going spare locked up in here?"

Harry tilted his head slightly, wondering briefly how accurate this statement was. He was no longer technically restrained but the Healers had been insistent that he keep to proper bedrest. He was only allowed to walk to the small bathroom the room offered when accompanied by someone else. His strength had been slowly returning and the last couple of times he had tried to insist that he was capable of moving about on his own, but he had been adamantly overruled. He had not tested the Healers' patience by trying to leave the room but he wondered what reaction he would receive if he did. He had not wanted to risk being restrained to the bed again.

"Just seeing someone that isn't looking at me like they're trying to study my every move is nice," Harry admitted quietly. He looked back at the door out of instinct.

"What's wrong?" Ron asked, looking back in confusion, and then eyeing Harry curiously.

Harry shook his head, and gave an embarrassed smile when he realized the assumption he had made in his mind had no merit, "sorry I was wondering if Hermione was here? I haven't spoken to you in a while but usually by this point in the summer she's staying with you. I don't know why I assumed that she would be with you."

Ron looked away and scratched the back of his neck, his neck flushed. "What?" Harry asked.

"It's nothing, she had to stay with her parents his summer."

"But there's something else," Harry prompted. One thing that he had always appreciated about Ron was that he had always been a surprisingly good liar with most people but when it came to the people that he cared about the most, he found it impossible to be anything other than truthful.

"It's nothing," Ron insisted, but at Harry's persistent expression he relented by saying. "Mum made me promise not to say anything that would make you upset while in hospital."

Now Harry's curiosity had turned into outright alarm. "Why what's wrong? Is Hermione alright?"

Ron grimaced and smacked himself in the head. "I really am shite at this. Hermione's fine. I see her every weekday when we go the Ministry Defense Class…you know about that right?" Harry nodded, from Draco he had heard both more than enough and nothing at all. "So why would I be upset about something having to do with Hermione?" Harry asked in confusion.

Ron looked awkward. "Er… it's not your fault mate, but Hermione's parents were really hacked off about her going to the Ministry and what with her getting hurt and everything…"

"They blame me for dragging her along," Harry finished with a nod. He let out a slow breath, feelings of guilt flooding into him. "Can't say I'm surprised. Personally after all the crap I've dragged you and now Ginny into I'm surprised your parents ever want me in the same room as you."

"Harry! You didn't drag anyone, anywhere. You were the one that tried to make everyone go back- and Hermione has told her parents that! She doesn't blame you, but…well you know…parents." Ron rolled his eyes as if to prove his point.

"Look mate, don't beat yourself up about this. Hermione's parents are muggles and they don't really understand much about the war. They're just worried is all."

"They have a right to be. I don't blame them Ron. If I had a daughter and she was being put in danger because of one of her friends, I wouldn't want her to be friends with them either."

"You're too bloody nice for your own good mate," Ron scolded. "We make our own decisions. You didn't force us to do anything that we didn't want to do."

"Hermione thought it was a trap all along. I should have listened to her."

"You made a mistake but you were trying to do the right thing," Ron shook his head fondly. "You always try to do the right thing, Harry."

Harry shook his head, searching for something to change the topic but Ron seemed to be uncharacteristically in tune with his feelings because he chose that moment to lighten the mood.

"You know I heard about this 'diet' the Healers have got you on," Ron started suddenly with a pointed look at the empty bedside table, "what good is visiting you if I can't steal the sweets people give you as a get well?"

Harry grinned at his best mate before rolling his eyes. "So the truth comes out. Every time you visit me in the hospital wing its just for the sweets. I should have guessed from that first train ride that that's what you're after"

Ron laughed before shrugging, "well you do tend to get the best stuff. Remember that time Seamus was in there for three days after he exploded the matchbox in Second Year? All he got were some Bernie Beans and Blood Pops!"

"Seamus likes Blood Pops," Harry interjected.

"Yeah well Seamus was also convinced that you were a nutter and You-Know-Who wasn't back, the bloke has rotten judgement," Ron said breezily before continuing. "I just wish you were in there more often! Do you realize that you only manage to wind up there about once year? Merlin if Neville got the haul you did every time that he melted a cauldron or messed up a spell, I would be finding myself a new best mate."

"Neville has gotten a lot better," Harry answered loyally, though he was smiling at the memory of a small, round eleven year-old Neville coming back from the hospital wing at least once a month because he hadn't done a spell right or had otherwise managed to injure himself.

"Well good thing, I don't think he couldn't have gotten much worse," Ron stated with his usual bluntness. "Point is people still really like to put out the good spread for you, must be the points for creativity," he added with a wink. It was true, Harry had never been in the hospital wing for the same injury twice and though Madame Pomfrey still declared him the terror of her ward, he was in there considerably less than most students.

Harry shook his head. "Can we talk about anything other than me being stuck in here?" he asked with a sigh. "How are the Defense Classes?"

Ron pulled a face and moved to sit down on the edge of Harry's bed. "Bit useless. Well, obviously they were a load better than Umbridge. And they do teach you some good stuff, but nothing that the DA didn't cover last year. This woman that runs it has been an Auror for years and she's the one that's been in charge of their training program, Aurora Tackley, she's very…by the book.

Harry frowned, "I would think that as an Auror she should know what she's talking about."

Ron shrugged, he seemed to be thinking over his words. "it's not that she doesn't know what's she talking about. She knows the spells and all that, but when I said she's by the book, I really meant it. She knows that book better than Hermione knows _Hogwarts, A History_. But she doesn't like anyone to do anything off script and she treats us all like kids. Hermione and Neville are in bloody love with her though."

"Neville's in the class too?" Harry asked, glad that his friend had stepped up for the challenge. Neville had really improved the previous year but still lacked a lot of self-confidence. He hoped if there was one positive that could come out of the debacle at the Ministry it was that it had taught Neville that he could stand on his own and fight for what he believed in.

"Yeah and I'll tell you what mate, Neville's been really killing it in training. Tackley loves him. Calls him her star pupil. Hermione's right behind him obviously and even though she acts really pleased, I think she's secretly rather hacked off that she's not top of the class. It was bad enough that she was behind you but to come in second to Neville? She won't admit it but its killing her."

Harry laughed, that sounded like his best friend. "Tackleys gonna be the new Defense teacher this year," Ron mentioned.

"Better anyone than another Umbridge," Harry said, but he was still thinking over everything Ron had just said. He had spent his summer reading and then re-reading the Defense books that Sirius had given him, alongside the pages of notes and advice his godfather had left him. Despite not being able to do any of the spells himself yet, Harry still felt that he had learned a lot from those notes. And one thing that was certain was that Sirius was anything but a 'by-the-book' fighter. In fact over and over again he had scribbled advice to Harry as to how to be unpredictable and use each situation to his own unique advantage. Showing how he could around common procedure or use what people were expecting in a fight to his advantage. He found it interesting but not surprising that Ron felt the same way, a person that had retained his spot as top chess champion in Gryffindor Tower for the past five years running because of his inventive strategies.

"Better her than Umbridge but honestly mate, not better than you," Ron said with a grin.

Harry gave a sharp laugh, "very funny Ron."

"No," Ron said quickly, his face growing serious. "I wasn't having a laugh, Harry, I really meant it. I…I don't think you realize how much you managed to help people last year. Do you know that every person that was in the D.A managed an E on the OWL? No one else even managed a pass! Harry… you were really good at the D.A. last year. When Hermione first suggested it I thought it was good idea and all, but I'll admit that I wasn't really sure if you would be able to…you know…" Ron shrugged in his admittance that even after he and Hermione had pressured him to start the Defense group last year he had still had his doubts. "But honestly Harry, you were good. You break everything down and make sure that everyone can do it. You're patient too, when you're teaching. More patient than you usually are," Ron grinned again.

Harry was surprised. He had liked teaching the D.A., far more than he had expected to have liked it, and he had been proud of everyone's progress but he had still not realized that they had really considered him a good teacher. He chalked the groups success up more to their own practice and hard work rather than his teaching abilities.

"At any rate," Harry sighed and arched his stiff back, it was amazing how quickly he could still tire even after so much rest, "I guess we'll just have to wait and see about this Tackley, won't we?" He grimaced as he felt a twinge at his movement.

Ron nodded, trying (and failing) not to look too concerned at Harry's discomfort, "so you're feeling better then?"

Harry shrugged, "yeah a lot better than before but I'm still pretty knackered all the time and…" he shrugged.

Ron frowned, "what Harry?"

"It's nothing, I'm just whinging on."

"Harry, you've been my best mate for 6 years now and if there's one thing you don't do it's whinge on about anything. Brood, yell and sulk you've done but you don't whinge. You can tell me if something is wrong."

Harry dropped his gaze to his hands before admitting quietly, "it just hurts."

Ron was quiet for a moment as though he thought that Harry would say more and when he didn't, his friend was uncharacteristically direct but quiet, "what hurts?"

Harry fiddled with his hands as he said, "just about everything. I mean it's not bad, not like at first. Did…did they tell you about how I was when I first got here?" Harry glanced up in time to see Ron's brow raise. "They told you about that?" he asked in way of answer.

Harry smiled ruefully and shook his head, "they don't tell me much. I reckon they think that I'm going to crack up if they tell me anything…upsetting," he rolled his eyes. "But I remember most of it. I mean…" Harry paused to think, "not all of it. I think I was pretty out of it for a while. Didn't even know how long I'd been here but I remember it hurting like a bitch."

Ron smirked at him, "from what I hear you weren't shy about saying it either. According to Bill, Mum was right shocked when she heard you screaming swear words from your room, she was only allowed out in the hall at the time but Fred and George reckon you must have put on quite the show by the way her face was still a bit red when she got home later."

Harry winced at the idea of Mrs. Weasley hearing his unfiltered speech, he had always loved the Weasleys as though they were a second family to him and the last thing he wanted was for Mrs. Weasley to start thinking less of him.

"Hey don't worry about it mate, everyone knows that you weren't exactly in your right mind."

"About that," Harry asked, taking another quick look at the door to make sure they weren't about to be interrupted, he lowered his voice, "is it me or does everything keep looking at me and acting like I lost my bloody mind?"

Ron gave a grimace of sympathy. "Er…sorry about that."

"It's not your fault," Harry said in surprise, it was unlike Ron to apologize for other people, he had a hard enough time confessing to his own misdeeds.

"Yeah but you shouldn't have to put up with people making you feel all crap on top of everything." Ron glanced at the door himself. "I was told not to say anything to you but since they're the ones that screwed up then I think it's alright. So this poison plant that you were infected with?"

" _Phantasies interius_."

"Right. Well apparently it can cause madness and I guess with the way that you were carrying on when you first got here and the fact that the pain is supposed to be insane, er…I mean that it's so bad that it can drive you mad…like with Neville's parents?" Ron raised his eyebrows at the statement and Harry nodded, his hands suddenly sweaty. Ron gave his own nod, as if to say that he would not say anything else about it.

"Anyway, I think one of the Healers got it in everyone's head that you might…" Ron grimaced as though he wasn't sure how much to say but Harry nodded.

"Probably Gwynn, he's always looking at me like he half expects me go chasing butterflies."

"Why would anyone chase after a butterfly?"

"Muggle expression… or maybe it's the other way around. It's something to do with going crazy and butterfly nets."

"That is mad," Ron chuckled before glancing at Harry with a guilty expression which only made Harry laugh more. "Er…so he's giving you a hard time?"

Harry shrugged, "Nothing terrible, I mean he's just doing his job, he's just rather…condescending about it. The worst part is that I have to have these exams and…" Harry shrugged again, not feeling like going into details over how awkward he felt by being so exposed. "Anyway the last five days since I woke up have felt like five years. At least now I can stay awake for more than an hour at a time, which means that I'm more bored but it must mean I'm getting better."

Ron frowned, "Harry…you've only been awake three days," he said gently.

Harry blinked, thinking back. "I mean, you've been sleeping a lot so it makes sense that you might think a couple more days have past," Ron said quickly.

Harry nodded, but he felt more discomforted than he normally would have. He felt the need to change the subject, the last thing he wanted was for Ron to start believing that the Healers might have been right to be worried. "Er…so how's your summer been? I hope it's been better than mine."

Ron grinned at him, "I think if it were worse than yours I would be going mad myself. I heard from Bill that you were staying with Snape AND Malfoy? How in the bloody hell did that happen?"

Harry laughed, grateful for the moment that if only one of his friends could visit him that it was Ron. Hermione had more tact and was far better at going to for real advice but she would never make a joke of Harry possibly going mad when such a thing was an actual possibility. And while she would have been sympathetic to him having to stay with the two Slytherins, she would have more likely been quick to remind him that Snape was on their side or that things could be worse. Ron was the one that commiserated with him.

"Dumbledore," Harry said with a bite of impatience.

"Talk about barking…" Ron shook his head fondly. "How horrible was it?"

Harry shrugged, "could have been worse. I kind of just followed Dursley rules and stayed out of their way. I got the feeling that Snape was trying to make it out to be miserable as usual but he's an amateur compared to my aunt and uncle when it comes to making unwanted house-guests miserable. And the good news was that I was able to move around the village," Harry paused as he considered what he had just said and gave a short laugh, "which clearly worked out well," Harry said spreading his arms and gesturing to his surrounding hospital room.

Ron shifted uncomfortably and ran a finger down his long nose, his ears were a tell-tale red.

"What's going on? Did I say something weird…" Harry asked suddenly nervous. Ron was the person he was most open with about his secrets, the only person that he never had to worry about filtering what he wanted to say or how he sounded. To his own ears he had not sounded any different than he usually did when speaking to his best friend but the news that the poison could be affecting his mind had him second guessing himself and feeling more insecure than usual.

"No…no you're fine Harry, I just…er…I had a favor I wanted to ask you but just forget it."

"No, why would I forget it? I'll do it," Harry said earnestly.

Ron shook his head with bemusement, "I didn't even tell you what it is."

Harry shook him off, "if I can do it, you know that I will."

Ron grinned at him, looking very pleased with Harry's quick assurances that he would help in any way that he could. "It's…listen it's not really fair of me to ask of you. I…I shouldn't have brought it up and if my mum knew that I even thought about asking you something like this while you're in hospital…you have no idea how long she lectured me about not making you upset or worried about anything."

"Well at this point if you don't tell me, you're just going to make we worry about what you were going to say," Harry said with a grin.

Ron glanced at the door before leaning in a bit closer, lowering his voice. "Look if I'm talking out of turn or you want me to shut up, just say the word but…" he cleared his throat and seemed to think about where he wanted to start.

"Alright, have I told you about my dad's brother Roger?"

"No…" Harry searched his memory but he couldn't remember Harry ever talking about an Uncle Roger. "You told me about your Uncle Bilius but I don't think I ever heard about a Roger."

Ron nodded, "Right- Weasley remember? My dad was one of 5. Roger was the second eldest, my dad's the third. Apparently when they were growing up they were really close but we haven't seen him in years. He got a really great job in the Netherlands and he sends his kids to Beauxbatons, him and my dad had a bit of a falling out a few years ago. Nothing really dramatic…not like Percy," Ron said the name with distaste and Harry felt a lump of guilt as he remembered his own conversation with his best friend's brother. "But it was kind of the same thing with Uncle Roger… he got a pretty good job and he kept getting on to Dad about not 'using his rightful status' or whatever and getting into a proper position at the Ministry or just leaving the Ministry all together and going into the business world," Ron's face was flushed with embarrassment and Harry knew that this was hard for him to talk about. Harry knew that Ron trusted him with any secret but his friend had never felt comfortable discussing his family's finances with him- especially after Fourth Year it had become an unspoken topic between them, a taboo that Harry had never violated. Harry took its as a mark of Ron's deep trust in their friendship that he would talk about it now.

"Sounds like he became a proper wanker," Harry said idly. "Your Dad likes his job, that's worth a lot more than making more money."

"Easy to say when you're never going to have to worry about money mate," Ron grunted but Harry noticed that it was without his usual hostility when it came to talking about Harry's inheritance. Harry raised his brow a bit and Ron grimaced in acknowledgement of his change in attitude. "I've…I've had a lot of time to think about things and I've been an idiot in the past. I don't know if I ever properly said it Harry but I am sorry about the way I acted after you got picked for the Triwizard Tournament. I was right prick about the whole thing and you didn't deserve it. I... well that was about me, not you. I think I finally get that now." Ron had kept his eyes trained on the bed, his hands fiddling idly, clearly uncomfortable with the apology. As close as he and Ron were, neither were particularly good at 'expressing their feelings' and tended to let things lie, as it were.

"I told you before to forget it, I meant it Ron. It's over," Harry said, genuinely meaning it. Ron nodded his understand before clearing his throat and saying, "I know what it was like for you at the Dursleys."

Harry raised his eyebrows at that. Though Harry had never been exactly secretive about the fact that the Dursleys had despised him, he had also never really gone into much detail. Most of his comments over the years had been largely ignored by both adults and his friends. Although of anyone, Ron knew the most but had always maintained an official silence on the topic. For Ron to bring it up now was not only surprising but in its own way strangely comforting.

Ron coughed awkwardly. "I know you understand what it's like not having money. Actually," Ron licked his lips nervously and his left hand tapped nervously against his thigh.

"That's the favor I wanted to ask- about the Dursleys," he blurted out inelegantly.

Harry's eyes widened in surprise before narrowing in confusion. "What favor could you want about the Dursleys?"

Ron shifted and considered his words. "Well like I said we haven't seen Uncle Roger and his family for going on about 9 years now but...well I guess he had some sort of breakdown. Apparently the muggles have this name for it… Two-poles? It's like you have these really big highs but really bad lows."

"Bi-polar Disorder?" Harry asked. He remembered hearing about it a few years back when the father of one of their classmates had been hospitalized after a manic episode. Aunt Petunia and her garden club had talked about it obsessively, even going so far as to bring the man's wife a casserole just to have an excuse to visit and get more information on what had happened.

"You heard of it?" Ron asked in surprise. "I didn't think it was that common."

"It's not _common_ but it's not that unusual either," Harry said, still wondering what this could have to do with the Dursleys. "Is that what your uncle has?"

"Sort of, it's a bit different with wizards but it comes to the same thing. Anyway, he's doing better now and that's not really the issue. They found out that he was ill because he had this…episode and he got really violent. He wound up attacking my cousin Vera, his daughter. She's fourteen, just a little younger than Ginny."

"Oh shit," Harry muttered. "Is she alright?"

"Yeah she's alright. Nothing magic couldn't fix up pretty quick but… well she's been really freaked out. Her mum was having a hard time and needed to be there for her Dad so she stayed at home and Vera and both of her sisters have been staying with us. She has two older brothers but even though they've left home they weren't really equipped to take care of them. Anyway, the reason I wanted your help was that Vera's really freaked out about the whole thing and no one seems to know what to say to her. She's been having these nightmares and she's not really eating and…" Ron winced, and spoke the next part quickly, as though ripping off a band-aid, "and I told her that I have a friend that might know how she feels. I'm sorry Harry, I never told her your name or anything but I know I still shouldn't have said anything. I know you don't talk about…about that."

Harry felt his expression become fixed and it took a minute to realize that his hands had balled themselves into fists, it wasn't until he followed Ron's concern gaze that he released the white-knuckled grip that he had on his own bed-covers. Harry considered his life at the Dursleys kind of an open secret to anyone that really knew him. Dumbledore had admitted that he had known even before dropping him off on their doorstep that he would have a hard time there. The Order members had all done enough to show that they were well aware that he was not well treated in his relatives' house and even his classmates at Hogwarts knew enough to realize that Harry would never go home voluntarily for a holiday. He remembered Ernie McMillian using his relationship with his aunt and uncle as a reason for suspecting him to be the Heir of Slytherin- as though the tension in their relationship was built on the fact that they were muggles.

However, Ron was the only person that knew the details of what happened at Privet Drive. Even Hermione only had a general idea. It was something that Harry never spoke about if he could help it. At times he wasn't even sure why he was so tight-lipped about it. He had no desire to shield the Durlseys, nor did he blame himself for what they did. Still, more than anything he feared how people would view him. How he would be pitied if they all knew what his life was really like when he had lived in that tiny cupboard. Their pity would be far worse than his own experience.

Ron had found out that things were a bit worse than a lot of people thought the summer before Second Year, right after Harry had received the worst beating of his life due to the 'Floating Pudding Incident'. While most of the marks had faded quickly- thanks to magic- there were still enough bruises under his shirt and he had not been able to hide them in Ron's small bedroom. Nor could he fail to explain the nightmare that had woken him up one night. When Harry had told Ron the whole truth the other boy had wanted to go straight to his mum and dad but Harry had sworn him to secrecy.

Harry insisted that it was a situation that he could handle and that his uncle rarely resorted to that level in violence, a fact that remained true. It had been the worst beating he had ever received, though Vernon's reaction to what he had done to Aunt Marge had been a large catalyst to his hurried flight from the house that night. He had been propelled by his anger but it was his fear that had caused him to run rather than fight. For the first, and only, time in his life Harry had been in real fear for his life at Privet Drive.

Harry let out a slow breath to steady his voice before he spoke, "what exactly are you asking me to do Ron?"

Ron was looking at him anxiously, "I was wondering if you could talk to her? Let her know that she's going to be alright. She has this feeling like…like she's different somehow. Everyone keeps telling her it's not her fault and that her Dad wasn't in his right mind. He really loves her and I think that makes it worse. I'm the only one that seems to make her feel better but… I don't know what else to say and I thought…" he shrugged and looked gave Harry a pointed look.

"It's not really the same situation, Ron. You said it yourself, her Dad really does care about her. He attacked her because he's ill, not because of her. Uncle Vernon hates me just for me," the words came out much more bitter than he had expected.

"I know that," Ron said before immediately turning bright red. He winced yet again and gave Harry another worried look. It was starting to get on his nerves a bit. "Wait… first off, I should tell you that your uncle is a complete moron, Harry. You should know, just in case no else told you, that when you went missing in the woods that whole village wanted to go looking for you. And not 'Famous Bloody Harry Potter' either, they all thought you were some muggle, right? That's what I heard from Fred and George. And then I heard Tonks telling me that she heard from _Snape_ of all people, that everyone in the bloody town was crazy about getting you back. Those are a bunch of people that had just met you a couple of weeks ago and they thought that you were the greatest person they ever met, if you've lived with your uncle all this time and he can't see that you're a decent bloke than its his loss."

Harry blinked in surprise, it was unlike Ron to be so vocal about his feelings or in trying to make Harry feel good. Ron ducked his head, apparently embarrassed by his own little speech. "I just mean… I thought maybe you could tell her that just because bad things happened to her, it doesn't change who she is."

Harry gave a small snort of air, "That sounds like the title of my autobiography. 'Harry Potter: Terrible Things Keep Happening... But At Least I'm Still Me.'"

Ron laughed before turning serious. "Are you mad at me?"

"Mad at you? For what? Knowing about my uncle and using it to try and help your cousin? No I'm not mad. I don't really think I can help, but I'm not mad." Harry took a deep breath. "Do you know when I can get out of here?"

Ron looked up in surprise at the question but realization sparked in his eyes. "Nothing's definite, they still have all these tests to run-"

"Bloody brilliant," Harry groaned.

Ron smirked, "But from what I heard they think you'll be able to go home either the 30th or 31st, right before Hogwarts. Mum got into it with Dumbledore and you're coming with us, so you don't have to worry about that. Honestly, if you were our adopted brother, you would be mum's favorite, you should have seen her when someone asked if you were going back to Snape's, I thought she was going to combust right there."

Harry laughed at the description. "If I make it out of here…I'll talk to your cousin."

"Really?" Ron asked in surprise. "Because honestly Harry, I probably never should have asked, I know how you like to keep things to yourself. And you're still recovering and all."

"I told you before you asked… if I can help you I will. You're my best mate Ron, if you need my help, I'll do it. Again, I can't promise anything but I will talk to her."

The afternoon passed pleasantly enough and Harry discovered that having his best friend visit made him feel infinitely better than hours upon hours of bedrest.

 **A/N: Thank you all once again for following and reviewing. I got some of my longest reviews ever last chapter and it was so nice to hear what people thought and it really helped me with a few ideas for later chapters as well.**


	15. Back to the Magic

**Chapter 15: Back to the Magic**

 **Interlude: Ron**

Ron walked quickly through the station pushing the cart that held both his and Harry's trunk while Ginny pushed her own cart. Harry had stubbornly tried to insist that he could push is own cart but the Healers had been strict with their instructions before they had released him only the day before. He was still taking three potions, twice a day, he was also still relegated to a special diet and had limits placed on how much 'physical activity' he was permitted to do. A fact, Ron knew, that irritated Harry to no end. Harry was not very good at being inactive and Ron found it ironic that people that were supposedly so worried about keeping Harry calm and rational were inadvertently driving him a bit crazy with their protectiveness.

Ron himself had thought the restrictions a bit excessive but Harry had fallen asleep shortly before nine o'clock the night before and when Ron himself had retired closer to midnight, he had noticed that Harry was uncharacteristically still in his sleep. As though his exhaustion had carried over even into his sleep. He wondered how much pain his best friend was still in, knowing that Harry was reluctant to ever complain, he knew that he was going to have to watch out for him carefully. That stubborn git was going to land himself back in the hospital wing by insisting that he was fine and Hermione's nagging wasn't going to help a bit. Ron knew that more a few of their classmates wondered why 'Harry Potter' and the smartest girl in the school hung around him. He liked to think that a large part of it was the simple fact that he was probably the only person that could actually get Harry to listen to reason and get the two of his more serious minded friends to remember that they were still teenagers once in a while and could have a laugh now and again. This was always a better thought than the ever persistent voice in the back of his head that continually told him that one or both of them would eventually realize that he wasn't good enough...

They were running a bit behind their schedule that morning, nothing new for them. Harry, who hadn't bothered to unpack his belongings for one day had been ready and waiting, but Ginny had been unusually flighty that morning. Forgetting things and taking longer than usual to get ready. Ron hoped very much that he was wrong but he suspected that some of her apparent nerves and care in her appearance had to do with her recent split from her boyfriend Dean Thomas. The two of them had been together at the end of the previous school year but the summer apart had been difficult. Ginny had refused to disclose all of the details to her brothers but from what they had all gathered, Dean had fallen for a muggle girl in his neighborhood and decided to break things off with Ginny rather than run around with both girls. Ron wasn't sure if he was supposed to be offended on his sister's behalf or just relieved that the relationship had ended.

"We have time," Harry said quietly to him, breaking Ron from this thought. Ron had always been a bit nervous about missing the train ever since the incident before their Second Year. A fear that he had never wanted to advertise, less the twins tease him mercilessly, but it had not escaped Harry's notice. He flashed his friend a brief smile, he was always surprised how well Harry could read people, especially when it came to things that bothered them. It wasn't only with his friends either, Harry had always been keen to notice when other people needed help. It was the reason that he had wanted Harry to help Vera. Not many people had a way of expressing concern without pity the way that Harry could.

True to his word, when Harry had arrived at the Burrow he had waited a couple of hours until everyone was sure that he was well settled in- and Mum wasn't about to drag him back to hospital if he sat down too quickly, and had given Ron the nod. Ron had played the part of diversion and asked Ginny if she would help him show Vera's two younger sister- Ariel and Rebecca- a couple Quidditch moves. Vera hated flying and Harry was strictly grounded for at least the next two weeks. Ginny had tried to argue at first, insisting that Harry had just gotten there and it was unfair of them to play when he couldn't but Harry had been adamant in saying that he would be fine with Vera for a bit. All it took was for Harry to remind Ginny that he had been made Quidditch Captain that year and try-outs were quickly approaching and suddenly Ginny was keen to get into the air.

Harry had asked Vera if she would walk with him to the small Orchard, saying that he wasn't really supposed to be left 'unsupervised' and he could use the company anyway. Vera had agreed.

Ron didn't know what Harry had said to her, however, Vera had come back much lighter than she had been before. She was more talkative at dinner and mum was delighted when for the first time she asked for thirds of the Steak and Ale Pie that they had had for dinner. Ron never got a chance to ask Harry about how the conversation had gone or what he had decided to say because he had been pulled into a conversation with the twins about the Cannons and Harry had spent the rest of the evening chatting quietly in a corner with Ginny before retiring early for the night. It did not escape his notice, though, that his sister had laughed more that evening than she had since she had received the letter from Dean saying that they could no longer see one another.

Vera and her sisters were still at the Burrow with Bill. Beauxbatons didn't start for another two days and their mother was coming to collect them the next day to return to their home in Amsterdam before catching their own train. Ron was glad that Vera was finally starting to feel better and he hoped that once the younger girl was back to school and with her friends, back to her regular classes and routine, she would be able to put everything behind her. He had been one of the few people that she felt comfortable talking to, something that had surprised him. Aside from Harry and Hermione, Ron had never considered himself to be anyone's confidant. People tended to gravitate towards the twins or Bill when it came to secrets and even Ginny had always seemed to inspire a sympathetic ear because she was the only girl. But for some reason it had been Ron that Vera had sought out and confided in. He had helped her a few times when she hadn't been able to sleep or had wanted to play chess without having to talk at all. He had helped her and he liked that, but he knew it wasn't enough. No one in their family had been able to fully understand the fear that Vera had experienced. Which was why even though he knew that Harry hated to talk about the Dursleys in any way that did not contain dripping sarcasm or indifference, he knew that he had needed to convince his friend to help Vera when he had realized that he no longer could.

It had come as a shock when they had heard about what Uncle Roger had done. The last time Ron had seen his uncle he had been about nine but he always liked the man. Passionate and seemingly loyal to his family, Ron had been crushed when he had learned of the falling out that his uncle had had with his father. While Uncle Bilius had been the life of every party, Roger had always seemed to be the man that Arthur Weasley had never quite been able to become. Ron's father worked hard, the older Ron got the more he began to realize just how much harder he worked than many of his co-workers, but was never given the respect, position or money that a man who had devoted more than 30 years of service to the Ministry should have received. Roger was a man that came from little but made sure he left with more. He had been an inspiration to Ron as a child and he had always been delighted when it had been him instead of his man older brothers that had often been compared to the man. All of his uncles had commented on the fact that Ron reminded him them of Roger and at a time when Ron's most desperate desire had simply to be acknowledged, it had meant the world to him that perhaps someday he would grow up to be like the man that came home every Christmas with news of a promotion rather than news that there was more unpaid overtime to perform.

But when Roger had thrown his accomplishments in his brother's face and looked down on him for following his own interests in muggle technology over hob-knobbing with his bosses, Ron had seen the man in a new light. He had never seen his father more upset than he had been after the final, explosive fight that he had had with his older brother. Later that night, long after Ron was supposed to have been in bed and he knew that his parents believed that they were alone, he had heard his father cry for the first time in his life. And that was when the horrible truth had crashed into Ron, his uncle wasn't loyal and hardworking, he was greedy and arrogant. In that moment, Ron had determined never to be like Roger, who chose ambition over family. This had been another reason why Percy's letter to him the year before, when he had tried to convince him to ditch Harry and suck up the Umbridge, had infuriated him so much. Ron would never be like Uncle Roger.

They had finally reached the proper platform and Ron realized with a sigh of relief that in spite of his fears they had actually managed to be about a quarter of an hour early. A personal best for the Weasley family.

"Oh look, there's Hermione," Ginny called out, waving at the girl through the crowd. Ron caught a brief flit of worry over the girls' face but it was gone with a genuine smile to see them. Hermione had told him how upset her parents had been about the events of last spring and knew that she would have preferred to meet them on the train and avoid a confrontation.

"Ron! Ginny!" Hermione was waving at them from the pillar that separated the muggle world from the train platform, her parents were also there, looking grimly at the approaching group.

His mother greeted the Grangers warmly, giving each a hug and a civilized kiss on the cheek in greeting.

"Harry!" Hermione greeted with her usual enthusiasm. "I'm so happy to see you! I've missed you so much. I can't believe that you couldn't even write. How are you?"

Harry grinned at her and returned the tight embrace that Hermione had given him. An unwanted- only slightly unexpected- surge of jealousy flashed through Ron when he saw how her hand lingered on his arms after the embrace had been broken. He tried to tell himself that it was because she had seen both Ginny and himself only the previous week at their last Defense lesson. She had, after all, spent the last month seeing them for three hours a day, but he couldn't shake the feeling that she had not seemed so excited to see _him_ after they had been separated for the first month of the summer hols. The feeling was only slightly dampened when he saw how Harry eyes flashed briefly towards her parents as though to gauge their reactions.

"I'm fine Hermione, thanks. You look good. How was America? Are all the people as rude as my uncle says they are? He is an expert on rudeness," he added wryly.

Hermione chuckled and again Ron felt that flash of jealousy, if he had made a comment about the people of America being rude he would have been told off for 'generalizing' and 'stereotyping', but Hermione seemed to take Harry's joke in stride.

"It was really a fantastic trip, we learned so much about the culture and the people, oh and the history! America always gets such a bad reputation because they're such a new country, they don't have any real proper history, do they? Except that if you go to the right places they have the most amazing stories. We mostly travelled in the muggle world, obviously, but we did go to a couple of Wizarding sites. Oh Harry, Ron, you both would have loved it!" Hermione carried on with her usual quick-worded excitement. "Oh but Harry! How completely thoughtless of me, I meant to ask you straight away, how are you feeling? I heard that you had been in hospital. What happened? I didn't hear any of the details." It had not been safe to send too much information in letters or to speak too openly about Harry's living arrangements in public places, which meant that Hermione had not been able to hear much about what had happened to Harry and Ron had only been able to tell Hermione at their Defense classes that their friend had been injured but that the details were a secret. That had not gone over well at all. He had been forced into a lie, claiming that he didn't know all the details either.

"I'm alright," Harry assured her with a slight smile, glancing quickly around to see if anyone was listening. "I was staying with our favorite teacher and his ferret and there was an attack in the village. It was _nine_ days ago though so I'm fine." Ron watched as Hermione's eyes widened in realization of what Harry was telling her and he found himself jealous of his friend's coding skills. Only one of them would call Malfoy a ferret, and only the inclusion of that person would betray the fact that Harry was being sarcastic when he had said 'favorite teacher', his tone had been quite genuine. He had stressed the number nine to let Hermione know that the timing was important- which once she figured out that nine days was the night of the Full moon she would even know that it was werewolves that had attacked.

"I suppose that once again you were lucky," Mr. Granger said stiffly. "From what I hear, you rely on luck quite a bit."

Ron saw Harry's lips press together and he knew that his friend was holding in a sarcastic remark. Harry had a sharp wit, something, Ron had learned, he had developed after years of dealing with his idiot relatives. Harry had told him once that his uncle, and cousin especially, had rarely grasped when they were being insulted to their faces. Growing up it had been Harry's only means of standing up against two people that were so much bigger than him physically. But there were times when his mouth got him trouble. Ron felt a bubble of laughter in his chest when he thought of Harry having to spend so much time with Snape- that must have been interesting. Personally he was surprised that both of them had made it out alive. Snape knew how to press Harry's buttons better than anyone and Harry enraged the professor by his mere presence.

"I wouldn't say that I rely on it, but I have been lucky a few times, sir." The older man frowned down at Harry, disapproval clear on his features. Hermione was looking at her parents anxiously and then at Harry, clearly uncomfortable that she had hailed them over to what had quickly become a tense situation. Ron could see that both his mother and Ginny had picked up on the fact that the Grangers were not happy with the dark haired boy. Both looked a bit uneasy with the dynamic.

Harry looked at both of Hermione's parents and seemed to hesitate a minute before squaring his shoulders. Ron recognized the stance, it was the posture that Harry took when he knew that something needed to be done even though he was dreading doing it. He had seen that look many times over the years. When they had gone after the Philosopher's Stone, gone into the Chamber of Secrets, before each of the detentions that he had had with Umbridge. It was the stance Harry took when there was no backing out. Perhaps fittingly he had not seen Harry take that look the night in the Shrieking Shack when he had held Sirius Black- believed murderer and traitor- at wandpoint and threatened to kill him. Ron firmly believed if he had seen that small shift in the other boy's shoulders that night, Harry would have killed the man. Once Harry had truly made up his mind to do something there was no turning back or changing his mind. Ron considered it Harry's best and worst quality- sheer stubbornness.

"Mr. and Mrs. Granger I wanted to apologize to you. I should have done so at the end of last term but I was… it was not a good time for me…personally speaking," Harry cleared his throat uncomfortably. "Anyway, I know that you must be upset about Hermione going with me to the Department of Mysteries and especially for her getting hurt. I want you to know that Hermione tried to talk me out of going. It was my idea, and it was my fault that she was there. That any of us were. I should really be apologizing to you as well Mrs. Weasley. You've been so nice to me…especially while I was ill… but I know that you must have been worried about your children."

"Oh Harry you don't owe me an apology. You have done so much for our family. After what you did for Arthur…of course you felt that you had to go there. That you needed to help. I wish that you had had one of us to turn to. Or that you had trusted Professor Snape. I hope after this summer you have learned that you can trust him. You should have gone to an adult but... well I know from talking to Ron and Ginny that there wasn't much else that could be done. Harry, I was terrified that you went to the Ministry but I was so relieved that you all came back safe."

Mrs. Granger looked thoughtful but Mr. Granger's face darkened with anger. "Safe? Hermione was nearly killed by blindly following this boy! And from what I understand this wasn't the first time that you dragged my daughter into some ridiculous hero scheme of yours. My sixteen-year-old daughter is not some sidekick for you and your adventures, boy!"

Harry face flinched ever so slightly on the word _boy_ but other than that small falter he remained remarkably calm. Ron could see, however, that his mother did share quite the same sentiment. But it was Ginny that was quick to his defense, her wicked temper driving her forward.

"Harry was just doing what he felt was right! He didn't force any of us to come! He warned us not to! You-Know-Who tricked Harry, it wasn't his fault."

"I'm not from your world, but I know that all of you are going through some dark times. I can…appreciate that it's hard for you. But that does not mean that you should be involving my daughter. We sent her to school to be safe and to learn and to grow into a responsible adult. But until she _is_ an adult, she knows enough to ask for help when she needs it- that's what _we_ have taught her. Frankly," he said turning to face their mother, "I can't believe that you're not more upset. You might support having your children run headlong into danger, but I don't. I won't put my daughter at risk to solve other people's problems!"

"It's everyone's problem!" Ron and his mother had shouted out at the same time. If there was one thing his family believed in, it was the idea that evil could be fought, but it meant standing up against it. From as far back as he could remember, Ron's parents had stressed to him the importance of defending muggles and muggleborns when necessary. Ron had once heard a muggle saying that went 'all evil needs to succeed is for good men to stand aside and do nothing.' That was what his mother had always taught them not to do. Fight until your last breath to defend what was right or else you've done wrong.

Their voices had risen and they were attracting the attention of a lot of people in the station. Muggles and wizards a like were actively listening in on the conversation. The wizards were not only identifiable by their cumbersome trunks, at times strange clothing and collection of owls, they were whispering through the crowd. The details varied but the tone was one that was familiar… "that's Harry Potter…" For good or ill, Ron's best friend had a way of garnering attention.

The argument had quickly deteriorated and Mrs. Granger had joined in with her husband's concerns. While she had seemed to waiver when she had seen that Harry had been willing to apologize she had apparently decided that her real loyalty was her to husband. Hermione looked to be on the verge of tears and was pleading with her parents to stop.

After a minute of confused yelling Harry's voice- quieter but with a firm, determined edge- interrupted, "Mr. Granger." The five voices stopped and turned to the boy that they had been arguing about. "Mr. Granger, Hermione has been my friend since our First Year. She and Ron are my best friends and I hate that they were put in danger because of me. I know you won't like this but I don't want to lie to you, I thought a lot about everything that happened this summer and the truth is, if I were to do it all over again, or what I mean to say is if I had the same information, I would go to the Ministry again. I don't regret that. I do regret that Hermione got hurt and I regret not having the right information but not that I was willing to do something when I thought that someone that I cared about was in trouble."

Harry swallowed and glanced at Hermione, his eyes full of regret and the tension in his shoulders stronger than ever, "Mr. Granger I know you're upset but I hope that doesn't mean that I can't still be friends with Hermione. I would never… if you forbid her from being friends with me, I will respect that," his voice cracked slightly.

"What! Harry! Dad you _can't_ …" Hermione was looking between her father and her best friend in panic as though she couldn't believe that Harry had even suggested such a thing. Honestly, Ron was surprised himself, he had never considered that the Grangers might actually forbid Hermione from being friends with one of them. Harry eyes were locked on Hermione's as though he were asking for her forgiveness.

"I would never make her choose between being friends with me and disobeying you, Mr. Granger but… please don't make her stop being my friend because you didn't like a decision that I made. And if this helps at all, Hermione is a much better good influence on me than I am a bad influence on her," Harry added.

Ron snorted, and said quite clearly, "As if we could make Hermione do something she didn't want to do."

Mr. Granger was frowning in thought, thinking over Harry's words. Ron could tell that the man was reluctantly impressed. And so was Ron. While he knew that Harry was being sincere in what he had said, he had also forced Hermione's father into a corner. Harry had been pleasant and understanding and if her father made Hermione promise to break off the friendship, he would be the bad guy. It would ruin his relationship with his daughter, there was no way around that. There were times when Harry would have a made a very conniving Slytherin.

After a moment or two of silence with Mrs. Granger shifting anxiously between looking at her husband and her daughter he finally relented. "Hermione is old enough to choose her friends for herself. I think we all know that she's a bright girl with a good head on her shoulders but... I want to make this clear to you boy- I don't trust you. I think you rush into situations that are over your head and then wait for someone to bail you out. I don't know if it's a cry for attention or some need to be a hero, but I'm warning you now, don't drag my daughter down with you."

Harry's expression hardened a bit, while before he had played the part of polite-teenager-out-to-impress-a-friend's-parent, suddenly you could see a man that would not back down against enemies much worse than Mr. Granger could ever imagine. "Understood sir. But, as I'm sure you're well aware, Hermione makes her own decisions. You might not want to hear this, but we are at war and sometimes tough choices have to be made. For the record, I don't wait for anyone to 'bail me out', I take care of myself."

"Big words considering what happened last year."

Ron expected Harry to say something back but all he did was lift one eyebrow in a silent challenge. His eyes were blazing and his mouth was a hard line, there was ripple of tension in the air, that crackle of magic that Ron associated with Dumbledore and he found himself taking a step back alongside of Mr. Granger, who was only now looking distressed. For the first time the muggle appreciated what every wizarding child had grown up knowing instinctively- there were some people that had a power that you could not fight against. Harry was the best ally that you could hope for, the best friend Ron had ever had- but if there was one thing that Ron knew with absolute certainty it was that you did not want to make Harry an enemy. The watching crowd noticed too, the muggles were looking up, possibly thinking that the charge in the air had do with elektricky, while the wizards present buzzed with excitement. Ron wondered if Harry was even aware of what he had caused. The feeling that they were seeing someone greater than themselves.

"Er…well, bye then!" Hermione said quickly, as though very worried that her parents would suddenly change their minds. "I love you mum," she hugged and kissed her mother on the cheek, repeating the action with her father as she echoed the statement with, "and I love you Dad."

Ron's mother hugged them all, squeezing Harry harder than usual and patting his cheek fondly. Harry gave a slightly embarrassed smile and the four of them made their way onto the train. Ron had to help Harry with his trunk so they found a compartment first. They used magic to levitate them rather than carry them but it was difficult with so many younger students running in and out of compartments. Due to the crowd most people just carried the trunks- even the older students- but Ron couldn't carry both and he wasn't about to let Harry try to carry his.

Hermione was trailing after them, levitating her own trunk, using about half the concentration that Ron needed for the task, and apologizing profusely for her father's attitude. "I am so, so sorry Harry, my father never should have spoken to you like that."

"It's alright Hermione," Harry said, he sounded tired and Ron hoped that the magic involved in the simple levitation charm wasn't tiring him out.

"You alright Harry?" Ron asked, glancing over his shoulder.

"Just tired again. Er… I lost my temper a bit at the end and I think I let off some wild magic. Took it right out of me."

Hermione, who was in front of both of them, turned her head in surprise as she continued to walk. "that was really impressive Harry but it made you this tired?"

Harry shook his head. "Not really. I told you that I was…ill? Well I'm still getting over it a bit and it makes me tired."

Ron could see that familiar glint in Hermione's eyes which meant that she needed answers but they couldn't discuss it on a crowded train, particularly one that had dozens of students looking out of every door and window to catch a glimpse of the _Prophet's_ Chosen One. Harry was more famous than ever, it seemed. They were running out of space on the train but luckily they finally found Neville and Loony Lovegood sharing a compartment in the back.

"Hey Luna! Hi Neville," Ginny greeted them brightly. "Do you mind if the four of us join you?"

"Oh not at all, I would love for you all to join us!" Luna responded brightly. Ron noted that she had the same bizarre appearance that she had the previous year. She was wearing those ridiculous glasses as she was reading the Quibbler upside down, her wand pushed up behind her ear.

"Thanks," Harry sighed gratefully, he was looking a bit pale and Ron was beginning to wonder if Harry had in fact been released a bit prematurely from hospital. "It'll be just me for the first hour or two anyway, they all have to go to the Prefect Meeting."

"You got made a prefect Ginny?" Neville asked with slight disbelief.

Ginny grinned wickedly back at him, "always the tone of surprise I see. I happen to be an excellent role model and conscientious student, thank you."

"That's right, very conscientious. She doesn't get caught half as many times as Fred and George did for their pranks," Harry added with a wink.

"Plausible deniability," Ginny answered with a shrug. "Come on, I can't wait to get this over with," Ginny sighed. Ron inwardly rolled his eyes but refrained from saying anything. Prefect meetings were boring but most prefects were at least excited by the first one. Most were proud of the achievement, he knew he had been the previous year when he had been given the unexpected honor. But for Ginny it apparently meant nothing. Ginny had always been the type to have things come easily to her- good grades, skill on a broom, popular in school. Ron had practiced for weeks and dreaded the try-outs before he had been named Keeper, Ginny had walked on as a replacement Seeker and won handily only to then say she preferred the position of Chaser. Prefect was just another easy accolade that she barely appreciated. In fact, he suspected that Ginny was actually a bit disappointed to be named a prefect like the majority of her brothers instead of following in the footsteps of renegades- Fred and George.

"Oh well at least you'll know that people are waiting for you for when it's finished. Isn't it is so nice to have friends?" Luna asked brightly.

Ron and Hermione exchanged painful looks, neither one of them were ever sure what to say to her when she said those odd statements. Luna, Ron knew, was not Hermione's favorite person. She seemed bound and determined to believe in anything that had absolutely no proof behind it, and anything with a lack of evidence and counter to reason was Hermione's blasphemy. He actually found Luna delightfully entertaining. She was quirky but even Ron could see that she always had the best of intentions. It was Harry though that seemed to understand her best.

"Yeah Luna, it really is nice to know that you have people waiting for you," Harry agreed and Ginny winked at him. Ginny had designated herself Luna's primary defender at Hogwarts and made sure that everyone knew that the Ravenclaw was under her small but powerful protection.

It took some twists and turns to get everything stored in the compartment properly so that by the time they were settled the train had started to move. Hermione was panicking that they were going to be late. "What are they going to do Hermione? Fire us and get new prefects for showing up three minutes late?" Ron asked but quickly decided to keep quiet as her lecture reached the next octave of worry. The more nervous Hermione became, the shriller her voice became and Harry had given him the look that had said that they had just reached danger levels.

They bid the rest of the compartment good bye for the moment and made their way to the meeting. As Ron had suspected, as second year prefects, there was little information for them to learn. They went over the patrol duties, the rules for dealing with members of outside Houses- Prefects were permitted to take points from members of their own House but were expected to speak with either a professor or the prefect from the offending House if they found trouble outside of it. Lists were given out of items that were most important on the banned list (Filch's full list had grown too long to duplicate and distribute and no one but Hermione cared to know everything that it included). Individual House passwords were given to the appropriate House prefects.

Predictably the only person to take notes was Hermione. Unpredictably, the Fifth Year Hufflepuff prefect- Flora Applegaths- had challenged three different rules and had seemed bound and determined to establish the fact that she had her own ideas of what a prefect should be able to do. While it had frustrated Melina Brooks and Justin Haverford- the Head Girl and Boy- Ron had found it the most entertaining part of the meeting. Ginny had looked rather surprised that she was not in fact the most irreverent prefect chosen but had looked distinctly amused herself.

"One more thing before we break up the meeting," Melina said. "I think we all know that this year is going to be more difficult than past years."

"The Ministry has issued official warnings about You-Know-Who and there have been sightings of Death Eaters," Justin elaborated.

"As prefects you are the school leaders and while we don't expect anything to actually happen at Hogwarts of course, it will be your responsibility to keep people calm and most importantly safe. If something happens at the school or even as news of attacks is mentioned, students- especially the First and Second Years are going to be looking to us for reassurance."

Flora gave a snort, "You might keep them calm but I think you mean that Harry Potter's job to keep us safe. Everyone knows that he's the Chosen One."

"Just because the _Daily Prophet_ says something-" Hermione started heatedly.

"Oh come on Granger, you and Weasley know Potter better than any of us, are you of all people really going to sit there and deny the fact that Potter isn't going to be the one that takes out You-Know-Who?"

"I really don't see why anyone should expect Harry to solve everyone's problems. You would think he's done enough already! He already stopped him once before, you would think it would be someone else's turn," Hermione returned hotly. Ron was surprised by her vehemence, after all even though he had not had the chance to discuss the rumors with Harry himself yet, there was no doubt in Ron's mind that there was some merit to them. Ron knew Harry well enough to know two things- Harry wouldn't rest until Voldemort was gone for good, and the git actually was good enough to get to done.

"First of all, what other people should be doing doesn't really matter because if Potter's the Chosen One he's the only that can do anything anyway. But that's not really what I'm talking about. Brooks and Haverford here want to act like they can honestly control this situation just because they're Head Boy and Girl. Realistically, if there's an actual threat against the school, who are you going to listen to? These two, or Potter?" she challenged.

Ron was greeted with a rare sight- a speechless Hermione. He felt just a touch of sympathy for his friend because he more than most understood the moral conundrum that Hermione had just wandered into. Hermione loved authority. She felt that proper authority was essential and that the only way the world made sense was to follow rules and report your problems to a teacher so that they could help you. But when it came down it, Ron had absolutely no doubt in his mind that she would follow Harry to the end of the Earth. He himself felt no such conflict- he knew that if came down to it the only person that would even give him pause in going against something that Harry said was Dumbledore himself and if push came to shove…

"Whether Potter is or isn't the 'Chosen One' isn't the point of this meeting," Justin returned, his face coloring with a bit of anger himself. "If you happen to notice, Potter isn't here. He's not even a prefect and he doesn't have the authority that we do."

"That was the point that we were trying to make _Flora_ ," Melina stressed. "As prefects, your responsibility is make sure that there is a chain of command. You must first make sure that the younger members of your House are taken care of and then you should report to Justin or myself- we're the Head Boy and Girl, we'll know what to do. Potter shouldn't be running around by himself trying to fight You-Know-Who, he should be waiting for us too."

Flora threw her a skeptical look that forced Ron to duck his head to avoid anyone seeing him laugh. He wasn't sure what he found more amusing, that the Fifth Year was essentially staging a coup against the Heads of the school without even telling Harry that he was her impromptu leader (something Ron knew that Harry would just love), or that fact that after a solid year of these people skirting Harry in the corridor and talking about him behind his back, now they were his biggest supporters.

The meeting finally broke and Ron followed Hermione back down the length of the train, Ginny following on their heels after successfully ditching a couple of the prefects in her year asking if she wanted to sit with them. Hermione was fuming about Harry being brought up in the meeting. "I can't believe the nerve of them! Harry should be _less_ involved in everything, but the way they talk! Ah…they make it sound like he should be…should be leading an army or something."

"I don't know why you're so upset Hermione," Ginny interjected, her tone laced with challenge. "You've practically signed up as his right-hand lieutenant. When the times comes for Harry to actually lead an army…are you saying you won't be right there next to him?"

Hermione came to an abrupt halt and turned to Ginny in surprise. "So…you agree with them?"

"You don't? You really think that all of this…it's _not_ going to come down to Harry in some way?"

"I…I think that Harry needs to focus on being a student at Hogwarts. I think that he should leave the war to the adults," she answered stoutly.

"Leave it to the adults?" Ron asked in shock. "Since when have we ever done that? Hermione… it might have escaped your notice but the adults…they are not the best at solving problems. I mean, they looked for the Chamber of Secrets for like a thousand years…and sure for a lot of that time they might have thought it was a myth but why was Harry literally the only one to think about questioning Moaning Myrtle about her own death? Why were _you_ the only one to figure out what it meant that the roosters were being strangled and the spiders in the castle were fleeing? Everyone knew that Slytherin was a parslemouth and no one figured it out? You were bloody twelve and managed it, do you honestly think that not one other professor ever took Care of Magical Creatures?"

"Thirteen actually," Hermione corrected but her face had that a conflicted look that came when someone was punching holes in a logic that she had already carefully constructed.

"Yeah? What about Sirius? Without you and Harry he would have been Kissed by the Dementors, Dumbledore in Head of the _Wizengamot!_ It always bugged me that he couldn't even call a meeting or something to get another trial. The government is too corrupt. But these are the people that you trust to sort out all our problems?"

"Harry's only sixteen Ron! Do you have any idea how many people- trained, experienced Aurors and everything- Voldemort has killed?"

"Oh right," Ron shot back sarcastically. "I forgot, we all call him You-Know-Who because he's a really forgettable bloke! Hermione what are you on about? If anything you prove my point, name one adult that we know other than Dumbledore that has fought You-Know-Who more than Harry!"

"It's just…I've done a lot of thinking over the summer…"

"You mean you've been talking to your Dad! Your Dad got into your head that Harry's dangerous or something and now you don't think he can manage things! Hermione…" he had never been so shocked by something she had said to him.

"It's not that I don't trust him, Ron! I trust Harry with my life, I trust him to do his best I just…"

"You don't think his best is good enough?" Ron asked icily while Ginny glowered at her.

Hermione shook her head in frustration, "no…no its not that all, its just… how can you _want_ this to be true Ron? After everything that Harry's been through, how can we ask him to do even more? How can we… have you really thought about what it will mean for all of us if the Prophet is actually right for a change?" she asked quietly, her voice suddenly desperate.

Ginny's eyes widened in surprise and Ron felt himself soften as he saw what was truly bothering his best friend. Hermione was the smartest person that he knew, she had figured it out. She knew that Harry would have to face the monster eventually but she was desperately trying to deny it in order to protect her friend. "Hermione…I think that we both know better than to think that just because we wish something wasn't true it makes it possible. You know Harry as well as I do, do you honestly think that he can't win against Voldemort?" he asked with a challenge in her voice. He was grateful that they were having his argument away from Harry because the last thing that Harry needed to hear from either of them was even a hint that they didn't believe in him.

Her avoidance of the facts surprised him. Hermione was the logical one, after all. She must have realized that Voldemort had drawn them to the Hall of Prophesy for a reason and after 6 years of friendship with Harry, believing that he would be the one to finally destroy Voldemort for good was not as surprising as it should have been. In a lot of ways...Ron was even relieved that it was Harry. If had been a single other person, he wouldn't know if they could do it but Ron had seen Harry do the impossible. If anyone could destroy Voldemort...it was his best mate.

Hermione sighed, and she suddenly looked resigned. "I know Ron. I know that Harry will do his part and I know that we will be right there with him, I just... I just don't want Harry to think that it's all up to him. I know you're mad at what my dad said to Harry, I am too, but that doesn't mean that he doesn't make a few good points. Why does it have to us all the time?"

Ron frowned at her, "I think Harry would say that we fight because the alternative is doing nothing. There's no in between. You can't be 'sort of' in a war Hermione. Are you really willing to do nothing?"

Hermione blinked at him in surprise and Ron felt his heart skip a bit. It was a very rare thing for him to tell Hermione anything of importance, she was usually the one with the answers and the fact that he could see that his words impressed her meant more than he could say.

They had arrived back at the compartment and as they slid the door open, Ginny turning to speak with another boy from her class, Harry jerked awake from where he had been dozing. He blinked at them and then down at his empty wrist as though looking for a watch that wasn't there. "Prefect meeting done already?" he asked, yawning and stretching his arms over his head.

"Yeah mate, you been sleeping this whole time?" Ron asked with a frown. He had not seen Harry during those first days he had been in hospital but Fred and George had both gone as members of the Order and when they had come back to the Burrow they had been uncharacteristically pale and quiet. When Harry had acted the same as ever in the hospital, Ron had been relieved that he had been able to recover with his sanity but the fact that he was still so tired worried him.

Harry flashed a guilty look in Luna and Neville's direction, "er...yeah sorry about that. Neville just got done telling me that his Gran bought him a new wand, one of the last ones Ollivander had before his shop was abandoned and his grandmother even got him some extra lessons this summer. And Luna..." Harry winced. "I'm so sorry Luna I didn't mean to fall asleep, I thought your trip to Sweden sounded interesting."

"That's alright Harry you were very tired, if I didn't know better I would be sure that you that you were stung by a durmo plant, but they only bloom in winter."

Hermione's face colored with the strain it took for her to keep quiet but Harry only nodded, "honestly Luna that would make more sense than how tired I've been lately."

"So what _did_ happen Harry?" Hermione finally asked, her anxiousness to finally hear the details of Harry's summer clear and Ron leaned forward as well. He only knew the broad strokes, his parents refusing to tell him anything outside of the fact that Harry's relatives' place had burned down and he would staying with Snape of all people.

Harry sighed and sat up straighter, running a hand through his hair as he seemed to think about where to begin. "Well I guess it started at the Dursleys..."

Harry caught them up on the events of the summer. Hermione and Ginny had both gasped in surprise when they realized that Harry had been forced to fight his way out Privet Drive while protecting his muggle relatives, both having been under the impression that the Order had been there to protect Harry. "How many of them were there?" Neville asked, his expression a frown of concentration.

Harry scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, "technically there were seven in the house and another half a dozen outside but I never had to deal with those, thank god. The Aurors fought them off and I was lucky in the house- they had split up and they thought that I was asleep. For people attacking in the dead of night I guess they weren't ready for an actual fight."

Hermione shook her head in disbelief and Ron found himself blinking in surprise too. It never ceased to amaze him that Harry had a way of relating terrifying events as though they were everyday occurrences and something anyone could survive if in the same position.

Harry went on to tell them how Dumbledore had dumped more bad news on him while he had been visiting with his cousin in hospital. Neville and Luna hadn't realized that he had been staying with Snape or Malfoy for half the summer but both had expressed sympathy. Or rather Neville had expressed sympathy and Luna had asked with almost clinical interest if the professor's house was infested with grimbles so that he was forced into such a bad mood all the time. Harry had only said that he hadn't noticed any but if that was the case Luna might want to tell someone that they'd officially found the worst infestation in Great Britain.

He continued on to tell them that he had spent most of time with the muggles in the town and that Snape wasn't too bad as long as you were able to spend about 12 hours out of the house and another 8 hours sleeping. Luna in particular enjoyed the fact that Harry had paraded around town pretending to be a squib while everyone was busy speculating about what the famous 'Boy-Who-Lived' was doing all summer. Ron had to admit that he did find it rather delightfully ironic that while everyone was debating what top secret training their Chosen One was receiving, in reality Harry was under a few of their very noses working as the local shop boy.

"Yes but what about the girls?" Ginny asked with a grin that was a little too knowing for Ron's comfort. Not only did Ron find it strange that Ginny would bring up _Harry's_ dating life with him considering only a couple of years ago she had been hopelessly in love with him, he hated that his baby sister seemed to know exactly what would interest a teenage boy the most. He wasn't even sure why he should be surprised, Ginny was only a year younger and somewhat embarrassingly more experienced than either him or Harry when it came to the opposite sex.

Ron was amused to see his best friend's face redden slightly. "Er...well I met some lovely people. Why don't we just leave it at that?" he said, adding a slight wink at the end that caused Hermione's eyebrows to raise and Ginny to snort with laughter.

"What's her name?" Hermione asked.

"Are you still together?" Ginny asked.

Harry shook his head, "I wasn't really with anyone. It's like I said, I had a good time this summer. I met a few girls, we went to a few pubs but... they weren't like my girlfriends or anything."

Hermione appeared rather scandalized by this admission, "Harry I never thought that you would just lead a girl on to...to just get what you want from her."

Harry held up both hands and looked rather affronted at the accusation, "who said I was leading anyone on? Elena and Reggie are both fantastic and I liked them both, and both of them knew that I was going back to school and didn't want to start a relationship. Both of them didn't want to start a relationship with anyone else either. I thought you knew me better than that Hermione. I would never lie to someone that I care about and I would never hang around with someone that I didn't care about or didn't care about me. Do you have any idea how nice it was to spend a few weeks pretending to be someone other than me? To be able to have some fun for a change? It was amazing and I don't think I should have to apologize for it when I didn't hurt anyone."

Hermione looked a bit taken aback by Harry's outburst and her eyes looked rather sad at the realization that her best friend wanted to be someone else so badly. "I'm sorry Harry, I shouldn't have accused you like that."

Harry waved away her apology- Ron had learned a long time ago that Harry's very best quality was the fact that he was almost incapable of holding a grudge.

He then explained how the werewolves had attacked alongside the Dementors.

"Voldemort has all of the werewolves?" Hermione asked.

Harry shook his head, "believe it or not, these werewolves weren't even involved with Voldemort. Apparently even if I'm able to effectively hide from one person trying to kill me, I still wind up with another group bent on killing everyone."

"Wait these werewolves weren't even fighting for You-Know-Who?" Neville asked skeptically. "Then what did they want?"

Harry frowned, "not sure entirely. I spoke to Lupin and he had said that he thinks that the werewolves wanted to scare the Ministry into giving them their own territory. By launching an attack now, they are basically hoping that the Ministry is so busy with Voldemort that they'll cave to their demands. But I haven't heard what exactly those demands include. And I also don't know how they got the Dementors to help them when we know that they are already working for Voldemort. Something is off about the whole thing. I asked some of the Order members while I was recovering in hospital but they seemed to think that any more information would be 'too upsetting' for me," Harry rolled his eyes.

"I would be careful Harry, _Phantasies interius_ poisoning is terrible-"

"Really Hermione I hadn't noticed," Harry said drily.

Hermione flushed, "I just mean that it makes a person's mental state very delicate. I'm sure they'll tell you when they know you've recovered."

"Really Hermione?" Ron asked. "Because were you paying attention last year when no one told anything? Unless they're deciding to wait until Harry is the fittest bloke in the world, they're not planning on telling him anything."

Harry grinned, "cheers Ron. But Lupin did say that he knew some of them from the First War. He said that he was surprised that they would have gone so far but that the werewolves had been unhappy with the Ministry and the Wizarding World for a long time."

"Well that makes sense, we all know how hard Lupin's had finding good jobs," Ron said thoughtfully.

Hermione looked calculating. "One of the reasons why werewolves have traditionally been discriminated against and kept down is because 300 years ago George Baelor, an alpha pack leader, had decided that since werewolves are one of the only Dark Creatures that can turn their enemies into allies, they should recruit as many as many as possible. Some of them believe that the only way for them to have any freedom is become the dominate species. Baelor's pack was completely eliminated but a lot of people think that his ideas never really died out."

"You mean they want to spread lycanthropy to everyone?" Ginny asked wide-eyed.

"I don't know about everyone, but I would say they want to be the majority," Hermione said looking thoughtful. "I imagine they're using the fact that the Ministry and most of the Wizarding World is so worried about Voldemort as the perfect cover to launch their own plans. The Ministry can't fight a two front war after all."

Harry nodded, "that's what Lupin said. But if that's what they're after, I wager they're barking up the wrong tree. There are other packs out there and once the Ministry gives into one, he'll have to give into everyone."

"You don't think that the werewolves should be entitled to their own land?" Hermione demanded hotly, her eyes flashing with the maniacal gleam that only 'spew' inspired.

Harry threw her another offended look at having his morals questioned repeated in the conversation. "I have no problem with them having their own land if that's what they really want but that's more a compromise than a solution. If the Ministry were smart they would have done a lot more than just set aside land for one pack, werewolves- a lot of other magical creatures- should been given equal rights a long time ago. You saw what happened with Umbridge and the centuars, and she might be a nasty bitch but the centaurs weren't that angry about one bigot. That was years of persecution and discrimination that they were retaliating against. You can't treat someone like garbage and then be surprised when they treat you worse. The Ministry has no one to blame but themselves if the magical creatures are turning against them.

" _But_ after this attack... this was vicious," Harry grunted, his eyes slightly haunted as he thought back to whatever he had seen that night. "They attacked innocent muggles. Kids. I would have been on their side but... they can't get away with killing innocent people and if the Ministry does it loses all credibility. They've ruined their negotiating power and if the Ministry doesn't respond the right way... its going to get ugly for everyone," Harry predicted darkly.

They all took a moment to digest that disturbing information. Ron caught Hermione's thoughtful expression and he knew that both of them were a more than a little surprised at how well in depth Harry's thoughts had been on the matter. But then after several days of bedrest with no one giving him any real information, Ron imagined that he had quite a while to think things over himself.

"So you actually fought with Malfoy against Death Eaters?" Neville asked with a raised eyebrow, breaking the tension. "There are...so many things wrong with that sentence."

Harry laughed. "Tell you the truth... I don't remember a whole lot about the actual fight. I remember us trekking lost through the woods and I kinda remember shooting off some curses at Bellatrix but..." Harry shook his head. "It's weird. Like it...like someone told me about it but it didn't really happen. Or at least parts that I remember don't really add up to what everyone said happened."

"Do you think they were lying to you?" Ginny asked. Neville and Hermione both looked surprised by that and it looked as though they were about to jump in to defend the adults before they were cut off.

Harry frowned, "I... honestly at this point it's too hard to say. Everything is just...jumbled. Doesn't really matter I suppose. I know the major points, it's not like I fought off Voldemort or something," he added with a grin but there was a shadow in his eyes as though even as he said it, he was unsure of what he was saying.

There was a commotion outside of the compartment, interrupting their conversation. Neville opened the door, his wand out in front of himself to find a group of Fourth Years squared off against one another. There was three Slytherins and two Hufflepuffs and two Ravenclaws.

"Take it back!" one of the Slytherins shouted, his face an angry blotchy red. "Take it back or I'll..."

Neville disarmed the angry boy while the rest of them peered out of the door. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked the angry boy while he leveled his wand at the boy's friends.

The younger Slytherins glared sullenly at the Gryffindor and Ron stared them down, startled by the sharp cry of " _pretego_ " followed by a cry of " _diffindo_ ". Ron ducked his head instinctually, turning to see that it had been Harry that had blocked the cutting curse that a Ravenclaw that had thrown at the now undefended Slytherin.

"Nice sportsmanship," Harry commented drily as Neville and Hermione both blinked in surprise at Harry's fast spellwork. Ron smirked a bit and shook his head, knowing what the two of them were thinking. They had been working on that counter-curse during the last week of Defense classes at the Ministry. Both Neville and Hermione had finally gotten it but it had been hard for both them. It had taken nearly a solid week for them to have it at a satisfactory strength. Ron still only had a loose framework of a shield that shattered whenever an actual spell hit it. Tackley had been impressed that anyone in their class had produced a successful extended shield as she said that she considered it a skill that should be acquired in the Spring Term of Sixth Year. Harry had mastered it right away apparently.

"How do you know that shield?" Hermione asked in surprise.

Harry raised an eyebrow, "Auror Training Manuel, it is on the course syllabus this year, Hermione," he teased as though they had always read ahead in their books as she had done. Ron had been surprised that Tackley had not only used the Auror Manuel during the Ministry classes but apparently planned to use them in classes too. He considered it a strange choice to make considering there were so many children of Death Eaters in her classes, many of which that fully planned on joining Voldemort after graduation. Tackley had addressed this by saying there was a difference between Training and tactical procedures but Ron still felt it was foolish move.

"Oy Potter, what do you think you're doing?" Haverford ranted, his Head Boy badge featured prominently on his chest.

Harry's face registered surprise and then annoyance at being called out. "I wasn't aware that we were letting Fourth Years cut each up whenever they felt like it. Sorry Ron and Hermione really should have briefed me on your new policies," Harry shot back. Ron laid a hand on his shoulder before he went any further and said something he would regret to a Head Boy that was very determined to prove that he wasn't going to be playing second fiddle to the 'Chosen One'.

Haverford pursed his lips before turning on Ron and Hermione, "and why didn't the two you do anything instead of Potter? You two are _actual_ prefects," he added significantly.

"Harry moved faster and it's a good thing too, I didn't even see this one raise his wand. Neville tried to stop their argument first but the Ravenclaws didn't want to stop even when this one was disarmed," Ron explained nodding in the Slytherin's direction. If felt very strange for them to be defending Slytherins, even they were two years younger them.

The corridor was getting crowded, students had stuck their heads out to see what was happening and more prefects were showing up. Ron saw Draco Malfoy, who he had noticed had been unusually quiet during the Prefect Meeting approaching with Pansy Parkinson but to Ron's surprise the blond looked rather reluctant to get involved. He had heard that Malfoy had also had to stay in hospital for a bit after the attack but he had not been told what his injuries had been. Malfoy was a bit paler than usual, making his usual light complexion almost white, and he was giving Harry an odd look.

Haverford took a minute to evaluate the situation, Ron could practically see the gears turning in his mind. "We don't need all of you here," he finally said to the crowd. "We only need the prefects to deal with the people that are involved. Patil, you stay as the Ravenclaw prefect, McMillian, you stay for Hufflepuff, and Parkinson, you stay for the Slytherins, Longbottom since you broke up the original fight I want you to stick around too, the rest of you go back to your compartments."

Harry nodded, his eyes still on the now pale Ravenclaw that had been surprised to have their curse blocked so effectively and was probably regretting acting in front of so many witnesses. Ron had to admit, usually when Ravenclaws caused trouble they much better at getting away with it.

"Ginny... do you mind if we talk?" Dean asked and Ron turned to tell his fellow Gryffindor to go to hell before Harry took him by the arm this time. "Ginny's got this, let's go Ron," he said quietly.

Luna had somehow drifted off on her own which left just the three of them to return to their compartment.

"What the hell was that about? Haverford acted like I started the whole thing!" Harry fumed.

Hermione winced in Ron's direction and he could see that she was unsure how much they should tell him, but as in most of their conversations, it was Hermione in the end that took the lead. "You need to be careful around Justin, Harry. We didn't get a chance to tell you about the Prefect meeting but... well you came up."

Harry looked momentarily surprised before settling on being simply resigned, "Is this about what the _Prophet_ has been saying about me?" he asked, sounding weary.

Hermione huffed impatiently, "You would think that people would learn not to listen to a thing that's printed in the _Daily Prophet_. Honestly after the blatant lies-"

"The _Prophet_ has it right," Harry stated, his tone quiet but firm. Hermione snapped her jaw closed which Ron felt was rather strange because he could feel his own hanging open. Ron's heart felt as though it was pounding right out of his chest. He had wondered...he had guessed...but he hadn't truly thought...

"Harry... the prophesy was smashed last year...we don't know...I mean it might not..."

"Dumbledore had a copy. He told me about it at the end of last year...after Sirius died," he added, his tone a bit more bitter when mentioning the timing.

"He had a copy of the prophesy all that time and he never told you?" Ron asked angry that something like this would be kept a secret.

Harry shrugged but his expression showed that he was not happy about it either. "Dumbledore said...I guess he didn't want to make me have to worry about it before I was ready. Like Voldemort's ever waited for me to be ready for him."

Hermione had her hand over her mouth and she was looking shocked but she took a deep breath, "how are you? I mean...are you scared?"

Harry gave her a wry smile and another shrug, "I was. I am...if I'm being but at the same time...I'm not really surprised, does that make sense? I just mean that the more I thought about it the more I think I always knew that it would come down to me and him in the end."

Ron nodded, "I'm not surprised either Harry. If someone had asked me who I thought was going to kill Vo-Voldemort for good, I would have said you too."

Harry blinked in surprise, "you- you said his actual name."

Ron flushed, a bit embarrassed, "yeah well with the two of you going on and on with it all the time I guess I was due. And I suppose I should really start saying his name if we're going to be fighting him."

" _We_?" Harry asked, his expression rather pathetically hopeful.

"Oh Harry, don't be an idiot, you can't possibly think that Ron and I are going to let you run after Death Eaters and Voldemort all by yourself!" Hermione announced with the same exasperated tone that she used when lecturing them about leaving their homework to the last minute.

"Yeah mate, we told you back in First Year, you're stuck with us!" Ron grinned.

Harry grinned back at them, he didn't need to speak for them to know how much Harry appreciated their words. Or how surprised he was that they weren't running away from him.

"Listen, you two are the only people that know about the actual prophesy and I want to keep it that way. If you've been following what else has been in the Prophet than you should see that the Ministry has been after me to work with them, which is not something I'm particularly keen on."

"Whether you confirm it or not Harry, people are going to think what they want," Hermione pointed out skeptically.

Harry nodded, "I know, but as I long as I say nothing there's still a doubt about whether or not there even was a prophesy. As much as people want a 'Chosen One' to fix this, they also don't want a muggle-raised-Half-Blood-sixteen year old as their only shot. If I can play this right, there's a chance I can still fly under the radar."

"Did Snape know?" Ron asked. "While you were with him I mean. Dumbledore trusts him after all."

Harry shook his head, "I don't think so, or at least neither he or Malfoy ever said anything other than making fun of what the papers said about it. Though if Snape is spying on the Death Eaters he must have heard something about it," he added thoughtfully. "Voldemort doesn't know the whole thing, only that it's about me and that I have the 'power to vanquish' him."

"Did you say 'vanquish'?" Hermione asked surprised.

"Er...yeah that's what the word the prophesy uses, why?" Harry asked.

Hermione shook her head, "It's just a bit peculiar, don't you think? It could have said kill or even destroy, but instead it said you had the power to _vanquish_ him. Don't you find that a bit odd? I mean..." and she suddenly looked exasperated, "I for one can hardly believe that there are actual prophesies in existence, but ever since we went to the Hall of Prophesy, I have done a bit of reading on the topic and I've found that the wording- the exact wording- of prophesies is very important."

Harry looked thoughtful but Ron was more concerned with another salient point of his friend's summer. "So Dumbledore knows that you really are this...this Chosen One-"

"Don't call me that!"

Ron grinned, "or whatever, and instead of actually giving you special training he packs you up from the muggles and sends you to a Death Eater Spy and a Death Eater wannabe?"

"Ron!" Hermione scolded, "Professor Snape is on our side-"

"I said _spy_!"

"Draco is more than a wannabe Death Eater," Harry said, his tone suddenly deadly serious.

"What?" Ron and Hermione asked in unison.

"Why would you say that?" Hermione asked.

Harry related to them his suspicions about the plot that Malfoy had been involved in before the werewolf attack, starting with the Slytherin's odd behavior, Harry's inability to account for his whereabouts during the Death Eater Meeting and his scar burning with Voldemort's rage when the plan had supposedly failed.

Ron traded a look with Hermione and was glad that he was not the one to break the bad news to their friend. "Harry...none of that proves that Malfoy is actually guilty of being Death Eater."

"I know that! I know it doesn't _prove_ anything, but... but I know he was up to something. I know it!"

"He's sixteen, Harry. Why would Voldemort want a sixteen year old Death Eater?" Ron pointed out.

"Why would Voldemort want a loyal follower inside of Hogwarts that has access to not only me and Dumbledore- his two biggest enemies? Gee Ron, I wonder. And don't forget the Riddle that came out of that diary was still in school. Voldemort has been doing Dark Magic since Hogwarts, I don't think it would bother him to have someone else doing it."

"Yeah but this is Malfoy," Ron argued, feeling that this was an obvious enough point in and of itself.

"And Voldemort thinks that he has Snape as a spy, he wouldn't need another," Hermione pointed out. Ron caught Harry's eye rolling and he knew that on this point they both agreed. Both sides thought they had Severus Snape, and neither he nor Harry was willing to bet that they were the side that was right.

The debate about Malfoy's potential Death Eater status carried them into the station when they were forced to abandon discussion in exchange for getting changed and getting off the train. Ron hoped that there weren't a lot of First Years waiting to be Sorted this year- he was hungry for the feast.

 **A/N: Thank you all- sorry for the wait. The holidays are really busy even well before they actually get here.**


	16. Old Routine, Old Secrets?

**Chapter 16: Old Routine, Old Secrets?**

"Mr. Potter, can I have word?"

For the second time in his Hogwarts career Harry found himself being flagged down by a stern looking Professor McGonagall before the Welcoming Feast had even started. "At least I didn't collapse this time, what are the chances she still has Madame Pomfrey there?" he muttered to Ron, who laughed, and Hermione who scowled at his carelessness.

"You have been really tired today Harry, perhaps you should see her…"

"Hermione, I told you, I already have the potions I need and I'm already supposed to see her after classes tomorrow. It's fine," he told her wearily. "This must be about what happened on the train. Surprised she doesn't want to see Neville instead," Harry said thoughtfully, assuming that the Haverford must have taken the proactive stance of sending word ahead- as any responsible Head Boy would of course.

"Probably got confused by the letter and thought they meant that Neville was knocked out or something," Ron muttered.

"Ron! You know perfectly well that Neville's been doing brilliant in the Defense class."

Harry left them to their bickering, too used to it to feel the need to take a side anymore, and followed McGonagall out of the entrance hall and towards her office. He sighed to himself, trying to subtly roll his shoulders to alieve his stiff muscles from sitting so long on the train and falling asleep in an awkward position during the first couple of hours. He ran over his conversation with Ron and Hermione, surprised by his own candidness.

He had been wrestling with himself all summer about how, when, or even if he should tell his two best friends about the prophesy that had sealed his fate so long ago and was now set govern his future. He had replayed the conversation with them a half dozen times when he had been chopping firewood for Littlefold or else doing his other chores, but in the end it had slid out of him in the moment. Harry was nothing if not impulsive but had learned to listen to his instincts and he was glad that he had. He suspected that if he had not told them in the next day or so it only would have been harder and harder- to the point where it would have been nearly impossible. And beyond the fact that Ron especially would have felt betrayed if he had not confided in them...Harry found that he felt surprisingly better after sharing his most closely guarded secret with the only two people left in his life that Harry considered family. He had known that he would have to tell them, it would have only been fair to make sure that they truly knew what continuing to be his friends would mean, but he had meant to tell them for their own safety. But their stoic support, their concern for not only what he had to _do_ but how it made him feel, their quiet confidence that he could succeed... it meant more to him than he could ever fully describe, even to himself.

As they reached McGonagall's office, it did not take him long to discover that he had been wrong about his assumptions. This was not about what had happened on the train. Standing outside of the Deputy Headmistresses' office was Snape, alongside Florence Stavely, of Wizard Child Protective Services, and a tall, broad man in Auror robes. The man appeared vaguely familiar to him but Harry wasn't sure where exactly he had seen him. Harry's stride paused for a moment and he felt his spine stiffen before he forced himself to move casually, carefully keeping his features neutral.

McGonagall held the door for him and although she gave him a tight lipped smile Harry could see that she had noticed his tension as she ushered him into the office. He noted with a degree of alarm that she already had set tea and biscuits out. This was looking more and more uncomfortable by the second.

"Hello Ms. Stavely, I hope that you had a nice summer," Harry greeted with what he hoped was a friendly smile.

"Why yes Mr. Potter, I did. I'm delighted to see that you remember me. I know that we met under the most horrible of circumstances. I know how upsetting it can be having to change guardians so abruptly. I hope that you were able to enjoy your time with Professor Snape. I heard about the horrible events that happened last week and I'm glad that you're feeling better," she answered, with the same patronizing smile that he remembered from the last time he spoken to her, as though already convinced he couldn't possibly be alright.

"I've been doing a lot better, thank you," Harry answered politely. His eyes lingered on the Auror as he tried to place him. "This is Auror Karl Vaxley," Stavely added when she saw his curiosity.

The Auror held out his hand and Harry took it with sudden comprehension, "you were at the Dursleys this summer, you were hurt," Harry winced. "Er…sorry about that."

The Auror raised his eyebrow but gave a good natured smiled, he spoke with a broad Scottish accent that was filled with gruff warmth, "part of the job I'm afr'd. Though I have to say, I was impressed how ya handled yerself. Couldn't believe that someone yer age was able to take out seven Death Eaters single-handedly."

Harry blushed and as he caught sight of the surprise on his Head of House's face alongside the uncharacteristic blink of the Potion's Master, he also grimaced, "well that's not quite how it happened. I only really got four of them, the others...I just managed to get away from."

This did nothing to dampen the smile on the man's face, if anything the man looked distinctly amused. "Details," he said with a casual wave of his hand. "Half the Auror Department's been talking about ya, we he'rd that ye were interested in a position and after the way ye handled yerself, well, let me just say ye won't be having trouble finding a reference."

Harry smiled, a bit more at ease with the Auror than he was at seeing Stavely and her Ministry-oriented agenda. The reactions to Vaxley's comments were almost humorously different. Stavely appeared rather put out that Harry was able to handle anything without her or the Ministry there to hold his hand, Snape's hard frown showed his usual skepticism that Harry hadn't ruined everything, while McGonagall was giving him a rare but proud smile, though she looked a bit pale. "Mr. Potter has always had a wonderful aptitude for Defense and responds better to high pressure situations than any student I have ever known." Harry was caught off guard by the powerful words but rather than allow the conversation to continue and give Snape the chance to remind everyone that Harry was an 'utterly hopeless dunderhead', Harry decided that he should move things along.

"Hello Professor McGonagall, I hope you had a nice holiday."

"Thank you Mr. Potter, I did indeed. I was able to visit with my sister and I even spent a week up in Aberdeen with my niece. Beautiful seaside city. If you ever have the chance I would recommend visiting, but only in the summer, it's bitingly cold in the winter."

"Thanks for the advice professor. I'm glad that you got a chance to see your niece, she must have been happy to see you."

"Speaking of aunts," Stavely injected with rather awkward eagerness, "that is what brings us here today actually."

The few minutes of small talk had given Harry the time he needed to brace himself and he decided that the best defense was a strong offense. "Is my aunt alright?" Harry asked, not as worried as he might have been if he didn't already have a fair idea what this was actually about. Stavely looked disconcerted by this question, "Er…why yes of course, why do you ask?"

Harry looked at her incredulously, one would think that the least she could do was read the bloody file about his family before showing up. "She's been in hospital. Last I heard she wasn't doing well."

"Oh well that must have been very upsetting for you these past few weeks," Stavely said with false warmth. "I hope that Professor Snape was able to help you cope with not only the traumatic events that led to her injuries but the situation with your aunt's mental and physical health. If I'm not mistaken your cousin is also undergoing treatment for trauma as well."

Harry stiffened, unsure what he was expected to say at this point to appease her. While his thoughts and mind had mostly settled after his exposure to the poison, with only a slight problem with factual recall that was expected to improve but his Healers had told him that they would be informing his professors about, his emotions were still raw and unbalanced. He wasn't sure how he should react. The idea of Snape helping him with anything was a completely alien concept but was he expected to be distraught over his relatives? Would the fact that he had really only spared them fleeting thoughts over the past few weeks be seen as having strength of his character in difficult situations, or a sign that he was deeply damaged by the abuse the _Daily Prophet_ had reported concerning his relatives?

"Mr. Potter has handled the attack on his relatives' house stoically and rationally," came the unexpected response of Severus Snape. Harry was forced to re-evaluate his previous assessment of his own sanity because to call for the man to call him 'stoic' or 'rational' were the closest things to a compliment that the Potions Master had ever given him. "In fact," Snape added, a slight lilt of sarcasm present in his voice, "I would even go so far as to say that without knowledge of the facts, one would never even know that Mr. Potter had been engaged in such an event at all." Harry bit the inside of his lip, in spite of himself he actually found the words a bit amusing- after all, Snape had not been informed of what had truly happened at his aunt and uncle's house and had- in fact- just found out the details only seconds ago.

Stavely looked surprised for a moment but her eyes narrowed and she appeared rather suspicious. "Stoically? Admirable but I would imagine that worrying about a woman that supposedly raised him like a mother that has been in critical condition for weeks would be quite upsetting for any child. I admit that I was a bit surprised when Harry's first concern was for her welfare but...perhaps he has not been as worried as he would like us to believe?" she questioned.

Harry struggled to keep his face innocent because he wanted to punch the woman. _Who they hell was Florence Stavely of Wizarding Child Protective Services to tell him how to feel about the Dursleys?_

"I was informed of your aunts' health, Mr. Potter," McGonagall interjected giving the tall, and yet somehow mousy woman, a harsh look from the corner of her eye. "Unfortunately there has not been much improvement. I believe that you heard that she was transferred to a long-term care facility?"

Harry nodded, frowning as he thought of Neville's parents and the idea that as much as he and his aunt had been like oil and water with one another, she was still his only family. Technical family.

"I know the news of her condition must have been…." McGonagall seemed to be looking for the right word to describe Harry's concern for a woman like his aunt without being indelicate, "discouraging. However, this move has so far proven to be cause to be cautiously optimistic. At the behest of her husband's rather…strident request," McGonagall's lips quirked slightly, surprising him a bit at the woman's humor. Harry grinned at her, his eyes no doubt betraying the amusement he found in her description of his uncle. "She was taken to a muggle facility and by all reports they have been much more successful in their treatments than those employed by St. Mungos. In fact I have heard that there was some talk of trying to use some muggle methods on other patients in the future. Nothing is guaranteed, especially not a fully recovery, but her doctors seems to think that she will be making some good improvements in the coming months."

Harry nodded his understanding, "Thank you professor. I'm glad that she's doing better. Or at least it sounds like she will be. I have been worried but there's wasn't much I could do while I was staying with Sn- Professor Snape. It was a relief to know that she was receiving proper care though." Harry had of course known exactly how well his aunt's treatment had been going, he had been in regular correspondence with Martin Tisdale who was still overseeing the arrangement for her care and Dudley's counselling at Harry's bequest. He wanted to keep those arrangements as secret as possible for many reasons, not the least of which was the fact that Snape had never known that he had found a loophole around his 'no communication with the outside world' rule.

Tisdale had kept him quite informed on his aunt's progress and Harry had also ensured that Dumbledore had been keeping his word and working on replacing on the Dursleys' house that had been destroyed. He had been relieved to find that although his trust in the Headmaster had been severely damaged after the events of last year- and tested beyond endurance when he had sent him to stay with Snape- he had not been entirely wrong to trust the man. Dumbledore had found and secured a location for the Dursleys that, although was not as nice as the house of Privet Drive, was as well protected as it could be. Harry had determined a long time ago that he would never owe the Dursleys anything and he refused to have the destruction of their house be on his conscience. In spite of his words to the Auror he was actually quite proud of the way that he had been able to defend them that night but over the course of the last few weeks, for reasons he could not even begin to fully explain to himself, he knew that his protection could not end with that one night. Perhaps it was sheer Gryffindor nobility and arrogant pride that drove him to want to provide his relatives with better care than they had ever given him.

The Ministry worker was looking extremely confused and Harry knew that he had guessed right when he had seen her. The Ministry was pouncing on the _Prophet_ articles. He knew after the conversation he had had over the summer that they were going to try to get him to work with them but he hadn't expected them to use Stavey. He could see that she was unsettled to see Harry's apparent concern for his 'allegedly abusive family' and he decided now was the best time to get out in front of this before the Ministry ambushed him into a corner that he could not escape from. He did not trust their motives for being here at all.

"Ms. Stavely, if you don't know how my aunt is doing, why exactly are you here?" Harry asked directly. Harry felt keenly aware that Snape was watching him closely and was wondering what the Head of Slytherin was even doing there at all. He hated the fact that Snape of all people was about to hear about how much his relatives hated him, he knew the man would savor every insult, waiting to turn them on him later. He had been shocked that the man had not used the article on his birthday to mock him.

"First of all please call me Florence. I think the two of us should be on friendlier terms, don't you agree? But secondly, I think you know why I'm here today, Harry. There have been some…allegations against your muggle relatives. Some concerns have been raised and it's my job to make sure that everything is alright. I asked you Head of House to be here and I thought it might be helpful if the person that served as your temporary guardian was also present as it helps if you remember that you do have other options."

Harry almost laughed at the idea that having Snape as an alternative to any living arrangement could be seen as a positive. The greatest days living with Snape were the ones that they had only seen one another during breakfast and dinner.

Harry glanced over at McGonagall who was looking at him with uncharacteristic concern. Her eyes were soft and her mouth was not in the thin, straight line that he associated with her so keenly. One look at the accompanying Auror and Harry could see the curiosity mixed with professional concern that someone trained to deal with delicate situations might wear, especially around children- _abused children_ , Harry inwardly corrected with an instinctual cringe at the term. His eyes flickered over to Snape but, as usual, the potion master's expression was unreadable.

"I don't know what you mean," Harry said carefully. "I haven't said anything to anyone about my relatives."

"Harry," McGonagall said her voice more gentle than Harry had ever heard it before. The use of his first name off-put him slightly. "I know that your relationship with your and aunt and uncle hasn't always been on the best of terms, to put it mildly. This is a chance to set things right, and I think you should consider the fact that the Ministry _can_ help you."

Harry raised an eyebrow at that statement, "if you've known that all along, why hasn't WCPS come and talked to me before now? I've been at the Dursleys for the past 15 years and no one has ever seemed overly concerned with their treatment before now. But that still doesn't change the fact that I never said anything about this. Or is she here because of the articles in the _Prophet_?"

"Do you always refer to your family by their last name?" Stavely interjected, answering his question with one of her own, "as though you are not a member of the family? I would think after 15 years you might have a more affectionate term for one another."

Harry felt his temper rise. He hated the way her voice dripped with condescension. However, he had learned his lesson from last year, there was an advantage to controlling his temper and strangely enough it was lucky for him that he was more tired than usual due to his slow recovery. It made him calmer than he usually would have been. "I think I asked you my question first ma'am. If everyone's been so worried about how I've been treated at my relatives' house, why are they only sending someone to talk to me now?"

Stavely appeared taken aback that he would challenge her question but she rallied quickly, pasting the same dull smile on her face. The smile of an indulgent adult addressing a three year old who had just asked why the sun was so bright out. "I can't speak for everyone Harry, but until now I hadn't been made aware of any problems. If some of your professors have been concerned, then I really don't see why they haven't come to the Ministry for help before now. The Ministry wants to help you as much as we can Harry."

And now they had gotten to the heart of the issue. It was very much like Harry had suspected from the first. The Ministry saw an opportunity to get him under their thumb. He remembered their clumsy overture over the summer and was unsurprised that they would use anything they could get to their advantage. Although to be honest given how he knew his Head of House had reacted to the Ministry the previous year he was a bit surprised to see her how willing she was to cooperate with them now. For the first time he second-guessed his caution about trusting the Ministry. The Aurors that he had met over the summer had seemed like good people and they had impressed him when they had admitted that a lot of them had agreed with him along. But he was also swiftly reminded of the fact that although they had agreed with him, they had not helped him. They had followed the orders from on high, and placing his safety and potentially his freedom in Ministry control was not a risk that he wanted to take.

"I'm not sure what you've heard, but I have no problem staying with the Dursleys until I come of age," Harry said, uttering what might well have been the biggest lie to ever escape his lips. He thought it might be the fact that he was dealing with another simpering Ministry sycophant, but he felt the scars on the back of his hand tingle.

"Harry," Stavely said patiently, "listen I understand how hard it can be for young men like yourself to speak out against people that have hurt them for a very long time. You should know that nothing that you tell us will be repeated to your uncle and that no one will judge you for what they have done. You will be safe once you let us help you."

"Actually, I'm supposed to be safest with my relatives," Harry corrected. "That's why I was living with them in the first place. Blood protection. But to be clear, I'm not scared of my uncle. What I told you was true." Which was true. Harry was not remotely afraid of his uncle any longer. Had this conversation occurred when Harry was young… or even before he had been in the graveyard watching Voldemort rise again, it would have been a different story but Harry knew what the Dursley limits were… and he knew his own too.

"Harry, I have worked for the department of Child Services for a very long time and I can tell you, that where there is smoke, there is fire. There have been quite a few concerns raised about the treatment you have received from your uncle."

"Concerns in the _Prophet_ you mean?" Harry asked testily. "The same _Prophet_ that claimed for a year that Voldemort wasn't back while he was off killing people? Or the _Prophet_ that was busy convincing everyone I was a sociopathic liar? For someone so worried about protecting kids, I didn't see you coming to talk to me last year."

The Auror was eyeing Harry with new interest, he appeared thoroughly entertained by the telling off that Harry was giving the Ministry employee and Harry suspected that most 'child-welfare' calls did not end with the supposed victim telling off the caregiver. He gave Harry a slight wink and Harry felt slightly bolstered by the man's confidence in him.

For her part, Florence Stavely looked as though she was reaching the end of her seemingly endless rope. "Actually Harry, I'm not here because of the investigative efforts of the _Prophet_ alone. An official complaint against your uncle was logged by a Ministry employee, one that knows you and your family quite well and felt that he could not keep quiet any longer. I know this is all confusing for you at the moment and that your first instinct is to be upset that all of this is coming out into the open, but Harry believe me when I tell you that this is for the best. You owe this person a great deal for finally coming forward."

Harry blinked, utterly confused as to who could have spoken for him at the Ministry by being able to claim that they knew him. And suddenly he knew.

"You can tell Percy Weasley that just because he wants me to stay away from his family, he doesn't have the right to go telling tales about mine," Harry hissed, suddenly livid.

For the first time in Harry's experience he saw Severus Snape look truly startled by something that someone said. The stoic man blinked and then something that on anyone else that could only be described as amusement crossed his features. McGonagall looked quite surprised as well and for a moment she looked as though she had the instinct to reprimand him for his tone but instead said nothing.

Stavely looked properly surprised by Harry words but whether it was his harsh tone or the fact that he had figured out who she talking about so quickly, he was unsure.

"Harry… Mr. Weasley knows you and your family have a difficult relationship. He was trying to do what is best for you. I know that a lot of people around you have tried to convince you that you should carry on with them but it is never the responsibility of a child to protect their guardian. I hope very much that you understand that. The Ministry wants to help you. I think someday you'll be very grateful to Mr. Weasley for being the person that finally spoke up and protected you." The day Harry felt grateful towards Percy for helping him was the day Draco Malfoy decided he would rather be a Hufflepuff.

" _Ms. Stavely_ ," Harry used her title as a means of telling her that while she seemed to insist that they be on friendly terms, he had never agreed to such a relationship. It had not escaped his notice that she kept saying his name, trying to ingratiate herself with him and the manipulation of it rankled. "The Ministry and the _Daily Prophet_ have done a lot more to hurt me than my uncle ever has. I told you, everything is fine with my relatives and I would rather drop the whole thing."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, Harry," she answered, her tone brisk but regretful. "As I said, an official investigation has begun. We had hoped that we could have your cooperation and we would make things as easy for you as we possibly could. I know that a boy in your position must be worried about the press something like this could bring, I wanted to keep this as quiet as possible."

"By dragging me out of the Welcoming Feast where half my House will wonder where I am and ask me about it the moment I sit down?" Harry asked acidly. "I hope you're not in charge of stealth missions."

The Auror let out a startled laugh and even McGonagall's lips twitched briefly. Stavely had the good sense to look abashed at that, clearly having no response.

"Be that as it may, it is still my obligation to see to your safety. If you are unable to see that you are in a dangerous situation, it is still my responsibility to protect you. I hope that you understand someday that I am only trying to act in your best interest. I will be interviewing several people that will have an unbiased opinion of your treatment at your relations' home as well as speaking with your uncle."

"Not without a solicitor you won't."

"Excuse me?" Stavely asked, clearly shocked.

"My uncle is a muggle and I know how the Ministry feels about them, so I won't let you bully him about with a bunch of laws he doesn't understand. I also won't let you twist up what a bunch of people tell you until you hear what you want to hear. You said you wanted an 'unbiased opinion' but you've already decided that they're guilty. I wasn't going to bring this up but my godfather emancipated me in his will, I didn't press for it because I had _no reason_ to at the time but with those papers he also left me a very qualified solicitor. If you interview anyone, I expect him to be there."

Stavely looked discomposed for a moment but she was rallying strongly. When she spoke her tone was more natural, she finally appeared genuine when she spoke. "Harry… this is going to be a very difficult time if you decide that you want to draw this out. This will get public and nasty and you _will_ be called into court. Believe me when I tell you that that is an unpleasant experience. I can see that you don't like me- I don't know why that is. Most times when I speak with children or teenagers that have the type of home life you have led, they are grateful for my help. There are counselors that help kids like you work out how they should be treated and why it's not your fault that you didn't receive the same affection at home that so many of your friends did. Why are you so adamant about protecting people that have hurt you?"

Harry let out a slow breath, settling his own temper. The very last thing he had ever expected to be doing in his life was defending the Dursleys. It had been his dearest wish to leave them for as long as he could remember. He had spent long, lonely hours in his cupboard imaging what it would be like if someone were to show up and rescue him, take him away from them forever- but only after first extracting revenge for years of misery.

But now that he had the opportunity… Harry didn't want it. The truth was he didn't _need it_ , and that was the most comforting thing of all. And he was not going to let Ms. Stavely and the Ministry take credit for something that he had done by himself. _He_ had survived. _He_ had found the will to get past years of neglect and cruelty and worries that he was every bit the ungrateful burden on people that they had always claimed. And he would be damned if he let them trap him now, let them use this as a means of either gaining his gratitude or else forcing him into custody with some pureblood family of their choosing. Harry had always taken care of himself and he was not willing to sacrifice that control.

Harry let out a slow breath and attempted to make things as clear as possible. His best hope was that if he was able to convince Professor McGonagall of what he wanted she would back him up, she had surprised him before, after all, with her faith in him. "My uncle doesn't like magic," he tried to explain, his voice quiet and slow. He was a bit annoyed with himself that this was harder to admit than he would have thought. "And I know that probably offends you. But he mostly hates it because he's afraid of it. My uncle is a very bitter man with no friends or anything that makes him truly happy- except his family. And while he doesn't always consider me a part of it- he did give me a place to stay for 15 years. And that might not sound like enough for you and maybe it's not, but I'm fine with what I got. I have friends. I have people that I care about. I'm happy with the life that I have.

"Except for the fact that the Ministry is constantly trying to take it away from me. You lot helped drive my godfather- a man that cared about me more than anyone- into prison, and then on the run, and finally to his death. _He_ was my family. He was the _one_ person that ever truly looked out for me and he's gone and while there are a lot of reasons for that, a big reason is the fact that he never even got a trial before you lot threw him in Azkaban. You want to claim that the Ministry can help me? The _Ministry_ is the half the reason I wound up with the Dursleys in the first place.

"I will never help the Ministry. Ever. And I will never put myself in a position where you can have custody over me. You asked me why I won't let you help me, it's because if there was one thing my aunt and uncle taught me extremely well, it's how to look after myself. And if you're warning me that I'm about to make things difficult for myself," Harry snorted, "get in line. My life is very difficult as it is. If you want to make it easier, just let this drop now. If you don't, that's your choice but after it's all over, don't tell me, or better yet don't try telling yourself, that you dragged me through court and my name through the papers, for me. You did this for yourself and your career."

Stavely's face was a chalky white, her lips bloodless but her eyes were wide and Harry knew that he had unnerved her, he also knew that this was far from over.

The Auror was grinning, "He told you Florence." He turned to Harry, his expression growing more serious. "Mr. Potter, for the record, you look to me like a very capable young man. I saw you this summer and I was impressed and since then I've heard more about some of the things you've done and I don't know if impressed even covers the things a man your age has done. But if you don't mind a piece of unsolicited advice? Don't put yourself in a bad situation just to prove a point. When you join Auror training the first thing they drill into you is that there is no such thing as a small mission. It's just as easy to get hurt or killed taking down a low-level thug as it is taking on You-Know-Who himself so… weigh your options carefully, alright? I don't know you well but I can see you're a smart kid, don't let your pride get the better of you alright?"

Harry blinked and swallowed the weight of the Auror's words settling on him, "Uh… thanks Auror Vaxley, I'll remember what you said."

"Call me Karl. And I mean that by the way, if you need me, give a shout and I'll apparate like a whip." Karl stuck out his hand once again and Harry grasped it firmly, giving the man a genuine smile. The Ministry employees hurried out and Harry was left with both of his professors. Both were securitizing him closely.

When her McGonagall spoke her voice was uncharacteristically rough, though without a single hint of sternness. "Mr. Potter… as your Head of House I hope that it goes without saying after all this time that you can come to me with any problems or concerns that you have. If you have questions I will do my very best to provide you with answers. I have always felt it best in the past to allow my students to come to me rather than seek them out in times of personal turmoil but I can't help but wonder if I have given you the mistaken impression that I don't care."

"No professor!" Harry answered with surprise. It was true that Harry's first impression of the stern Deputy Headmistress was that she was a woman that he would not want to cross and he had been felt alternately angry and surprisingly betrayed when his concerns over the Philosopher's Stone had been utterly disregarded, but he had never once doubted that McGonagall deeply cared for her students. "Professor..." how could explain what he wanted to say without making it sound like he had hid things from her, "Professor Dumbledore once told me that 'help would always be given at Hogwarts to those that asked for it', and the times that I really needed I always...almost always got it," Harry amended, his mind shooting to the end of last year when he had so desperately tried to find someone, anyone, that could save Sirius only for the Potion's Master to stare right through him. Spy or not the man had not done enough that day, no matter what Dumbledore believed to the contrary.

McGonagall raised her eyebrows at his correction of words and Harry grimaced apologetically. "The times I couldn't get help were never _your_ fault Professor," he said quietly.

McGonagall seemed to weigh him in that moment, carefully thinking over her next words before finally she said, "A magnanimous statement Mr. Potter but one that I think we both know is not entirely accurate," she looked at him in that moment Harry knew for the first time just how much the events of his First Year had weighed on the stern woman. "But regardless of my own faults I also would like make sure that you do not ever feel that you are forced to carry everything on your own. Harry… there are many noble and admirable qualities in Gryffindor House but we are also known to be both reckless and stubborn. These are things I myself have struggled with and have learned over the years that asking for help is a sign of great strength. I trust that you will think over everything that was said here today?"

Harry nodded, "thank you professor." He smiled at her gratefully, he did not think that she knew how much her sticking up for him to the Toad last year during his career meeting had meant to him and he did not want her to think that he had found cause to complain about the way she had governed Gryffindor Tower for the past five years. Harry had always looked out for himself and he had always appreciated the fact that McGonagall had treated them all with a degree of respect.

Harry noticed that the Head of Slytherin was still present, oddly quiet the whole time. Though he had not been surprised at his silence in front of the officials from the Ministry, he had been surprised when he had refrained from ridiculing him in front of his Head of House. Mockingly telling him that ' _if Potter had been anymore coddled by those in Gryffindor Tower I would expect that he would need someone to dress him in the morning_ '.

Instead Snape was silent for a moment before he spoke and when he did his topic surprised Harry, "The Vampire Clan of Nesting Crescent was grateful for the help that you gave to one of their own. Vampires value their children above all else as they are few and far between. For better or worse, they will want to speak with you again. Soon."

Harry blinked in surprise, of all of the thought that had been swirling around in his mind the fact that he had protected a Vampire Child was not one of them. After he had learned that Kaylee was safe he had been too consumed with memories of the horror of that night. "Speak to me about what?" he asked, perhaps a bit sharper than needed.

Snape looked put out by having to reveal this information. "There are more sides to this war than you know Potter and… you might have done more than you realize when you took a non-human under your protection."

Harry wasn't sure that he liked the sound of that, the last thing he needed was to become a more complicated part of this war, but knew enough about Snape to know that the man wouldn't say anything more about it now, however there was another pressing concern that he had had for several days. "Sir...do you know if anyone has made arrangements for Greg Tovins' funeral?"

Black eyes studied him but whether in surprise or just habitual suspicion Harry wasn't sure. "To be honest I can't say that I'm familiar with the name. I imagine that this is a man that was killed during the attack?" Though his tone certainly lacked any sympathy, the man at least managed not to sound bitingly sarcastic.

"He was one of the boys at the Group Home, a Dementor Kissed him but another wizard...I don't know his name but he was at the party that night...he- ended his misery."

McGonagall lips pressed together in a thin line but she refrained from saying anything, though she bowed her head slightly in respect. Snape also- surprisingly- bowed slightly in respect before giving a stiff nod, "there was a memorial for the victims of the attack two days ago, I was present and I can say that it was put together quite thoughtfully. I also took the liberty of assuring many others of your good health but explained that you had already needed to leave for school and therefore was unable to attend. I suppose I should forward their many well-wishes." Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise at the man, for it must have been difficult for Snape to relay any type of well-wishes to him, even as an innocent third party. Another person might have apologized for not mentioning this information to him when it was clear that Harry had been thinking about it, but Harry doubted that Severus Snape had ever apologized to a single person in his life.

"Thank you sir," Harry said, his thoughts more on Greg Tovins, glad that the boy had had a memorial. He had been sure what was done when wards of the Crown died and he had been plagued but a strange dark fear that the orphan boy had been discarded and forgotten.

"Sir..." Harry asked before he could help himself. He generally avoided asking Snape questions of any kind because they were inevitably either met with obstinacy or condescension. "If your soul is taken by a Dementor and later you die...do you find peace or is your soul just...trapped?"

McGonagall looked him sympathetically, Snape with a flicker of surprise. "Unfortunately Mr. Potter, that is not a question anyone other than perhaps an Unspeakable is truly able to answer. No one is ever quite sure what happens when a person dies but the question of what happens to the soul is consumed by a Dementor is considered by some to be an even greater mystery. There are theories-"

"Though it is almost assured that he is not suffering," McGonagall interceded before the discussion became academic and Harry was glad for the reassurance even if he felt it a bit hollow to tell him that they had no idea what happened but then somehow knew that Greg wasn't suffering.

Harry nodded, closing his eyes briefly as he thought, _at least Sirius was never Kissed. At least I know that he's happy._

"Mr. Potter I believe that we are quite late for the Welcoming Feast at this point and I imagine that you are even hungrier than I am, shall we make our way down?" McGonagall asked and Harry nodded gratefully for the end of the conversation.

Harry left the office feeling more confused than ever. Snape had been almost civil towards him for one thing. He had expected him to openly scoff at the idea that Harry needed even more attention to stop his muggle relatives from 'managing to take the boy-wonder down a peg for a change.' And he had been surprisingly open with the intentions of the Vampires. Last year Snape had attempted to keep as much from him as possible, refusing even to explain visions that Harry was having in his own mind. He wondered what exactly had caused the cooling of potion master's attitude towards him. One thing was for certain, it seemed as though it was going to be another long year.

HPHPHPHP

Harry retook his seat just as the food was appearing and he was relieved that he hadn't missed it, he was starving. Apparently, he had missed the Sorting once again. "Harry! Is everything alright?" Hermione asked anxiously. She was seated with Ron, Neville, Ginny and a few of their other year mates in the center of the Gryffindor Table.

"Fine," Harry answered shortly, glancing up and down and seeing multiple heads turned in his direction. He had no intention of talking about the Dursleys with a large audience overhearing. "What did the Hat have to say this year?" Hermione frowned at his evasiveness but the others seemed to take the answer in stride. He inclined his head ever so slightly towards, informing her that he would tell them when they were alone, her eyes softened and he knew that she had understood his intention.

"Usual bit. House unity. Trouble coming. Slytherins are evil…" Ron mumbled as he shoved food in his mouth.

"It did not say 'Slytherins are evil' Ron, it said that fractures between the Houses lead to fractures in society. It said that we need to work together to be united," Hermione argued.

"Actually," Ginny interrupted, "it said that we need to 'find the spirit of the Uniter' but I guess it comes to same thing since the Uniter is just a myth."

"What myth?" Hermione asked sharply, always suspicious of information that she herself did not know. "There isn't anything about this in _Hogwarts, A History_."

"Well than clearly it just doesn't exist," Ron muttered.

Harry grinned, "What myth are they talking about?"

"It's more a story that we were told when we were little," Neville answered with a shrug. "Or at least I think a lot of Purebloods are told, almost like a bedtime story."

"It doesn't have anything on Beedle though," Ron interjected and Neville rolled his eyes. Hermione glared at him for the interruption.

Neville picked up again, "You know how the Founders all left certain objects behind that they were known for. Like the Sorting Hat belonged to Godric Gryffindor and Hufflepuff had this…was it a goblet?"

"Cup." Ron answered promptly as he reached across Hermione for the roast chicken, knocking her arm while she was holding her fork and causing her to fling her mashed potatoes across her plate. "Ron! Honestly."

"Sorry, Hermione," Ron muttered, his eyes bright red, "but yeah it was a Cup. And to finish what Neville was talking about there were objects and then there were weapons. Like the sword that Harry pulled out of the Hat Second Year- that was Gryffindor's too. And Slytherin had a special shield that supposedly could protect him against anything, some people even think the Killing Curse will bounce of it but I wouldn't count on it. Ravenclaw had this scroll that's supposed to be able to find your enemies no matter where they're hidden and Hufflepuff had this potion that's supposed to be able to save someone's life no matter how badly they've been hurt. Like Phoenix tears but this one could only be used once and if the story's right, you can't take it yourself, you have to be given it by a 'true friend' but that part's probably Hufflepuff rubbish."

There were a few laughs at Ron's description and a reprimand from Hermione for disparaging other Houses.

"Right well, anyway, together it would create the ultimate warrior. A true representation of all Four Houses- bravery, cunning, intelligence and loyalty," Neville finished.

"So all these exist? Where are they?" Harry asked interested. Something was niggling him about the existence of these objects. Something that he had known but forgotten...something just out of reach. He wasn't sure why he was so certain that he knew the importance of these objects- he had never before heard the myth...

"Lost. Tell you the truth I didn't think any of them really existed until you pulled the sword out of the Hat. But the legend says that only a person that proves they are worthy of the objects can have them but no one's really sure if that means there's supposed to be one person that has all four Hogwarts traits, or if four people from each House are supposed to work together," Ginny explained.

"It must be four different people, the Hat was about pulling together and working as a unit."

"Not necessarily Hermione, it could have meant rallying around a person that every House would be loyal to," Neville argued quietly.

"You mean you expect Slytherins and Gryffindors to find one person that they both like? Good luck with that one," Ron snorted skeptically.

"No Neville might be right, one person that embodied all of those traits would be admired by a lot of people," Hermione said thoughtfully, going back on her original argument. "And it does make sense, to be honest I always thought it was a bit limiting to expect people to only have a few personality traits. After all there's no reason you can't be smart and brave."

"Well…personally I always found it strange that Gryffindor and Hufflepuff have traits that you can choose to have while Slytherin and Ravenclaw are more things that you're born with," Harry said uncertainly, voicing a question he had had in his mind for quite a while for the first time.

"How do you mean Harry?" Hermione asked.

"Well, I mean you can study but really some people are smart and others aren't. But being brave…. That just means doing something even if you're afraid. Everyone is afraid of something so anyone can choose to be brave. Same thing with loyalty really, you either choose to stick by someone or you don't, its not a natural talent, but some people are naturally more cunning than others."

"But ambition is a choice," Ginny mused. "And there are some Ravenclaws that don't have a lick of common sense but they study like crazy so it's not always about natural talent there either. I never really thought about it before but you're right Harry. It's mostly about choices isn't it?"

"Which makes working with the Slytherins even more unlikely," Ron added darkly. "I mean if they really couldn't help it, I guess that would be one thing but it turns out… they just choose be slimy, nasty gits, don't they?"

"Ron! That's not helping. If we just go on thinking the worst of them…"

"It's not about thinking the worst of them," Harry interjected, looking at Ron to shut up quickly before the two of them started in on a proper row, "Hermione's right, we should think about giving the Slytherin's a chance, but Hermione you also have to understand that wanting something and it being the reality are two different things. I'm not saying that all Slytherin's are bad," he said quickly because he could see her gearing up for another round, "I'm just saying that we have to be careful. There's a lot at stake here and we can't just assume that if we smile and act nice they'll fall all over themselves to be friends with us."

Hermione didn't have much to say to that but at that point the dinner was over anyway. Dumbledore made his usual start of term announcements, which included introducing a tall, strong-looking woman with dark hair and a fierce expression as the new Defense Professor, Auror Tackley. Harry noticed that she seemed to get a warmer reception than many of the professors in years past and took that to mean that the summer classes had been popular. She gave a curt wave, her sharp eyes seemed to be assessing everything and everyone and Harry hoped that this year they had someone who could really teach them how to survive.

This year there was a slight addition to the announcements that caught Harry's attention. "If our Sixth Year NEWTs students wouldn't mind remaining behind for a moment there is something that needs to be discussed with that Form after the end of the feast."

Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione to see if they had heard anything about this in the prefect meeting and somehow neglected to mention it, but they looked as confused as he felt. Soon after the Hall emptied of the rest of the students and suddenly there were only the fifty odd students that filled the Sixth Year classes remaining alongside the Head of each House.

Harry could hear a few people muttering among themselves, speculating about the unusual turn of events. Harry had never heard Dumbledore ask an entire Year to remain behind after the Feast before. Harry caught the words 'Chosen One,' 'prophesy' and 'something to do with Potter' bantered about and his stomach clenched a bit at the thought that Dumbledore might have actually held back his entire class with the intention of discussing the _Daily Prophet_ theories. Considering that the newspapers had been hounding Harry for years and no one on staff had ever mentioned them to him before, he found this change in protocol worrying.

"Thank you for remaining behind after the Feast, I am more than aware after a long summer of separation there is little that you all are looking forward to more than seeing old friends and settling back into your dormitories but I asked you all to stay behind because in light of certain recent events, we have decided to restart an old tradition that has sadly fallen to the wayside in recent generations."

This revelation brought only more confusion from the surrounding students, looking around at one another as though the answers were written on one another's faces, and Harry struggled to see what an old tradition could do with the prophesy.

"As you are all aware, for better or worse we divide you all into Houses based on which trait is most dominating to your personality. Now I say dominating because as I hope it has occurred to you all at this point, you all have the potential, and most of you have the ability, to possess all of the traits of our four noble Houses. I hope that in your time here you have enjoyed the House that you were each Sorted into and were able to make friends that helped re-enforce those skills that you value and need in your life. However, there are many limiting factors to this Sorting, particularly at such a young age. For one thing, many of our younger students incorrectly assume that they only possess the traits of the House that they belong to- which is a terrible thing to believe. I have known Hufflepuffs to be incredibly brave, I have known Ravenclaws to be admirably ambitious, I have known Slytherins to be extremely loyal and I have known Gryffindors to be uncannily smart, as I hope all of you have among your friends and peers. I also hope that you all have not let the excitement of the day and the exhaustion of your long journey distract you from the importance of the warnings that our Sorting Hat gave this evening because as our older, NEWT level students, our younger Forms will look to you to set the tone that they will follow."

Harry caught Hermione's eye and she gave him a rather knowing look, obviously thinking back to their own discussion about the Houses only moments before and how they themselves they had said similar things.

Dumbledore continued, "In years past, our NEWT level students underwent a yearlong project designed with the intention of creating greater House unity as well as helping each student to bring out skills in themselves that they may have neglected or not realized they possess."

"You're going to re-Sort us?" Zacharias Smith called out sounding horrified. The rest of the Sixth Years seemed to agree with the sentiment as their questions and complaints rose in volume. Harry said nothing but looked at both Ron and Hermione with growing horror. They were his favorite thing about Hogwarts, the only two people that he completely trusted in the world now that Sirius was gone and the thought of be forced away- even if just by their Houses- was worse than a dozen detentions with Umbridge.

Dumbledore waited a moment for the horror and outrage to die down before raising his hands calmly and calling once more for silence, "No Mr. Smith, your Houses are your own and I would not think of separating friendships such as the ones you have built, nor would I wish to take you away from the homes that you have found over the years." Harry felt himself release a breath he scarcely knew that he was holding. It was true, Hogwarts was his home, the only real one that he had ever known and to think that it had been so close to being taken away, even in the form of simply changing Houses, had unsettled him.

"However," Dumbledore continued, "each of you will be assigned a study partner from a different House. Your study partner is a person that will share most if not all of your classes with you, and throughout each term this year you and your partner will need to work on various projects in different subject areas. Some will be practical, some will be more research and theory based but you will need to work together, and for long periods of time, in order to complete them. You and your partner will be engaged in a competition with the rest of your classmates to see which couple is able to complete the tasks most effectively. Now while you will be graded on the assignments, the true goal of the partnership is to gain new friends, learn new skills and hear different perspectives. I will warn you all now that the people that will perform best in this little competition will be the ones that appreciate both partners' strengths and work to compensate for one another's weaknesses. Many of you have developed few ties outside of your own Houses and have grown accustomed to one way of thinking. I hope that you all use this opportunity to grow, to hear ideas that might make you feel uncomfortable but are not entirely wrong. Learning is a wonderful thing as I very much hope you have found during your time here, but it is not always an easy thing- the things we value most rarely come to us easily after all.

"Now as to choosing who you will be assigned to, that will be determined by our esteemed Sorting Hat, who I must say… is rather excited that we have agreed to resurrect this tradition after so many years. Each of you will put on the Sorting Hat once again but instead of automatically Sorting you, it will wait until everyone is finished and then pair you together with the best match. In case you are wondering- we are looking for matches that complement one another. People who will challenge one another's ideas while at the same time reinforcing one another's skills. Some of you will be paired with a House that you could very well have been a member of if things had gone slightly differently, while others will in fact be paired with a House that they need to gain a better understanding of. It is our intention for this experience to bring you all closer together." There was the usual twinkle in Dumbledore's eye and Harry knew that the Headmaster was more than aware of the problems this little 'experiment' could cause and had deemed it necessary- but he also seemed to find it slightly, if not perversely, entertaining.

It certainly sounded like a good idea on the surface but Harry couldn't help a tendril of anxiety at the thought of who he would be paired with. On the only two occasions that he had spoken with the Sorting Hat, he had been told that he would have done well in Slytherin House and yet when the Sorting Hat had appeared when he had been in danger, it had been Godric Gryffindor's sword that he had pulled from its depths. Harry had a feeling which House he would be chosen to work with, even before putting on the Hat, and he shuttered to think which of them he would be forced to work with throughout the year. His only comfort was if there was one thing he knew about Draco Malfoy… he certainly wasn't brave, so at least after spending a summer with him he didn't think he would be paired with him for the year as well.

The 'ceremony' of putting on the Hat was even more dull than it was when watching the First Years do it. Without the Hat announcing anything out loud, there was no cheering instead the Hat seemed to jerk slightly as if nodding and the person in question simply pulled it off their own head before heading back to waiting the crowd for the next person to put the Hat on. After sitting through one Sorting already Harry could feel his classmates growing restless. The names were once again called alphabetically so Harry had a ways to wait, he found himself sitting in the back with Ron, who had automatically moved to the back of the queue, with a name like Weasley he was always last.

When Harry's name was called he put on the Hat with a feeling of reluctant curiosity. He was not the same naïve eleven year old that had sat here so long ago, nor was he the overwhelmed 12 year that was worried about being named as the 'Heir of Slytherin,' and yet he couldn't help but wonder how the Hat would see him now.

" _Ah Mr. Potter, always a personal favorite of mine… you have an interesting mind if you don't mind me saying."_

" _Er…thank you I guess."_

" _Still adamant against Slytherin?"_

" _Would it matter this time if I was?"_

" _Not especially, but I am curious…ah…I see, as I say Mr. Potter, you are interesting."_

" _What do you mean interesting?" Harry asked feeling annoyed at the coy tone the Hat was using_.

" _I told you many years ago Mr. Potter that you could be great. It is a destiny that I have offered many students over the years, ones that went on to many different Houses, but you are the only one that never showed the slightest desire to have that greatness. In fact, over the years you have chosen again and again to place the wellbeing of the people around you above yourself. It is an admirable quality but one that should not be taken to the extreme. Self-preservation is an important quality as well. You will have a challenging year Harry, but if you are able to rise to those challenges you will not only achieve greatness, you will find what you truly want, happiness."_

The Hat gave the nod that it was finished and Harry pulled it off feeling stunned at the Hat's ability to throw him off center. It was true, he had always wanted to find happiness. It was the reason he had been so against being Sorted in Slytherin in the first place even if it had meant that he would never be 'great.'

Finally, once Ron was finished, the Hat was ready to make its decision.

"Parvarti Patil of Gryffindor will be paired with Justin-Finch Fletchley of Hufflepuff."

And the pairs continued. Hermione was paired with Terry Boot from Ravenclaw which came as no surprise to Harry or to Ron, who gave a brief snort of laughter at Hermione 'going back to her true home' as he muttered under his breath. Vincent Crabbe was paired with a girl from Hufflepuff but to Harry the big surprise was Gregory Goyle, who was paired with Michael Corner from Ravenclaw who looked furious at being matched with the dim-witted thug on a school project. Ron was paired up with Ernie MacMillian from Hufflepuff, a pairing that both seemed satisfied with, much to Harry's relief.

Another shocking turn came when Draco Malfoy was paired with none other than Neville Longbottom. Neville looked as though he had swallowed a lemon and Draco complained loudly that he was forced to work with 'little better than a squib.' Harry tried to give Neville a sympathetic smile for drawing the short straw of partners but he couldn't help but be surprised that Neville was paired with a Slytherin. Neville had confided in him once that his Sorting had taken longer than usual because he had argued with the Hat to put him in Hufflepuff and Harry had assumed that he would have been paired up with the House of the loyal and hard-working, two traits that described Neville to a tee in Harry's mind. But then Dumbledore had said that some people would be paired with Houses that needed to gain a better understanding of another House, and that certainly explained how Draco had been paired with a Gryffindor. Self-sacrificing bravery was not a Malfoy trait.

Harry was the last person to be paired and he was trying to keep track of who was left, he was fairly certain it was…

"Harry Potter of Gryffindor will be paired with Daphne Greengrass of Slytherin."

Harry looked over at the Slytherins, finding the dark-haired, tall girl that he had never spoken to before glaring daggers at him. She did not look pleased to have him as a partner but Harry was glad that at least he had been paired with one of the more neutral Slytherins and not one that had full blown Death Eaters for parents.

"Excellent," Dumbledore said, drawing a close to the ceremony. "I hope many of you are pleased with the matches, others of you might not see yet why you have been matched with the person that you have, but I hope that you all enter this with an open mind, a willing heart and in time see that you all have something to offer one another and that you all have something to learn from each other as well. I hope that you spend a few minutes getting to know your new partners before turning in for the night but I think that concludes the uh… adult supervision portion of the evening," Dumbledore winked at them but Harry could see that McGonagall and Snape looked rather unsettled about leaving all of them in a room alone with no one to stop a fight from breaking out.

Harry approached Daphne cautiously, in the five years that they had spent at Hogwarts together the two of them had never spoken and he had no idea what he should expect from her.

"Er…hi Daphne, I'm Harry," he said sticking out his hand in greeting and attempting a small smile. The look that he received in return, however, was cold and filled with contempt, "we're in Sixth Year Potter, I sat next to you in Astronomy for 3 years and I've sat in front of you in every Transfiguration Class we've had since Second Year when McGonagall started alternating rows between Gryffindors and Slytherins, I know who you are. Even if you never took the time to pay attention to anyone outside your little fan club doesn't mean the rest of us have the luxury of ignoring you."

Harry felt his face flush in a combination of embarrassment and annoyance at her comments. "I know who you are Daphne I was just… trying to be polite," he said struggling not to grit his teeth. He was tired, it had been a long day and the nap that he had had on the train had long since worn off but he was struggling to remind himself that he would have to work with Daphne for the next year and keeping his temper would only make things easier.

"Listen Potter, I don't know what kind of sick game Dumbledore is playing at, teaming you up with a Slytherin, you and I both know that you have zero in common with our House and I have never seen the value in carelessly sacrificing myself in the name 'bravery' so let's just make this simple. We divide the assignments, get our grade and spend as little time together as humanly possible. Sound good?"

It did sound appealing considering, especially since she was glaring at him as though he were a diseased creature. The look of distaste on her face reminded him vaguely of how his Aunt Petunia would look at him whenever he had managed to make it home from school without being abducted by a kidnapper or child molester and it occurred to Harry for the first time that he had been his usual impulsive self when he had rejected the social worker's offer to press charges against the people that had made his life hell for the past 15 years.

Shaking himself out of these thoughts he sighed as he said, "Daphne, I'll be honest… I know Dumbledore well enough to know that getting around his plans aren't going to be that easy. I'm not claiming that we need to be best mates and run off together into a sunset Quidditch game but I do think that we're going to have make peace with the fact that we're going to be working together. I do know you well enough to know that you have good grades-"

"If you think I'm going to carry your mediocre ass the way Granger does-" she argued, voice starting to rise and turning a few heads in their direction.

"I'm not asking you to carry anything-" Harry answered tiredly, he could see Ron eyeing him worriedly out of the corner of his eye and Harry wondered if he was starting to look as bad as he felt. "Look, all I'm saying is, you don't know me, not really. And you've already pointed out that I don't know you, so instead of assuming the worst, can't we… I dunno… assume that we can suck it up enough to work together?"

Daphne was giving him an unreadable look but Harry had the impression that he had surprised her with his attitude. "C'mon Harry, we should get going," Ron interrupted suddenly. He was giving Harry a look of marked concern and Harry was surprised by the fact that he was rather touched by his best mate's uncharacteristic solicitousness rather than annoyed.

"Yeah," Harry agreed with a stifled yawn, "just…er… think about it Daphne, alright? We don't have to make this whole thing miserable, alright?"

"I think that's up to you Potter," Daphne said slowly. "Follow my lead and don't make the mistake of thinking that I believe you walk on water and we might make this work."

"I'm fairly certain that you'll remind me quite often that I don't walk on water, and as for following your lead… only if you're heading somewhere I want to go," he said giving her a sly wink and leaving with Ron before she could respond.

"What the bloody hell was that?" Ron hissed at him as they headed in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. Hermione was still chatting animatedly with Terry and Harry had not bothered to interrupt once he had caught the words 'how you do feel about weekend study sessions in between projects as well?'

Harry titled his head, rubbing his neck in an attempt to get rid of the pinch in the muscle and sighed again, thinking longingly of his comfortable bed. He had been stuck in hospital for a week and then the previous night he had been stuck on Ron's extra camp bed- neither one known for luxury. "What do you mean? I was trying to convince Daphne that if we have to work together we might as well try to get along. You're not going to give me some Slytherin lecture, are you? Cause I'm not in the bloody mood Ron," he grumbled irritably.

Ron rolled his eyes, "give me a little credit Harry. I might think all Slytherins are dirty, lying scum but it's not your fault that you have to work with her. I was wondering why you were flirting with her."

"Flirting?" Harry scoffed with a surprised laugh. "What are you talking about?"

"That…that _wink_ you gave her after you said 'you'd follow her if you like where she's going,' what the hell was that?"

"Oh… I- I didn't mean anything like that! I was just taking the mickey out of her a bit. Letting her know that I'm not going to just be her little sidekick that she makes do all the grunt work. That's all. Speaking of- you better make sure you set some ground rules with Ernie, he likes to think he' something special and he's going to try and take charge of everything," Harry warned just as they reached the Fat Lady and Ron provided the password _Resist_

"I can handle MacMillian, just be careful with Daphne mate, she might be more than you expect," Ron ended darkly. As Harry climbed gratefully into his four poster bed, he couldn't help but think that Ron made a good point.

 **A/N: Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone! Thanks again for all the reviews.**


	17. Sixth Year- New Teacher, Old Problems

**Chapter 17: Sixth Year- New Teacher, Old Problems**

The next morning Harry felt slow and sluggish, it was the slowest recovery that he had ever had and he was beginning to feel a bit frustrated with his own inability to pull himself together. More than one Healer had commented on his seemingly 'miraculous' recovery but they didn't seem to appreciate how bone-weary Harry felt every moment. Residuals pain in his muscles left them feeling tight and cramped and he very much wished that classes started an hour later in the morning.

He took a deep breath before pulling himself out of bed and making his way into the restroom. He showered and freshened up before downing the disgusting potions he was still required to take, letting out a slow breath as a flash of nausea unsettled him before his stomach seemed to resolve itself. He splashed some cold water on his face, taking in the fact that he still appeared paler than usual. It seemed petty and childish but it rankled that the one time Harry had been able to get a healthy summer tan it had been ruined by his illness. Just once in his life he would have liked coming back to school without looking as though he was a street pauper.

Harry found his way to the Gryffindor table, glancing forlornly at the crispy bacon and runny eggs that his classmates ate as he reached for his 'Healer-approved' toast, luckily he was allowed strong black coffee- or at least Harry assumed that everyone's definition of coffee was strong enough to power a small nuclear power plant. He had not bothered to ask the Healer specifically if there was a caffeine cap that he was allowed and thankfully no one else had thought to ask either.

"Oh Merlin, Harry, you look a bit pale, are you feeling alright?" Hermione greeted him with a concerned look.

Harry shrugged but attempted a small smile, "I'm alright, just still tired. And before you get into it, I'm seeing Madame Pomfrey after class so stop worrying about it."

Hermione huffed but she smiled nevertheless and helped herself to her own portion of eggs and toast. Ron soon made his own sleepy appearance and piled his plate high, sitting across from Harry and beside Hermione. "Is that all you're eating Harry?" Hermione asked, with a slight frown.

"Don't remind me, it's all I'm allowed for the moment. The potions I have to take for the next few days are sensitive to a lot of food ingredients. It's bloody miserable," he grumbled in complaint.

"Awful thing that diet," Ron muttered, runny yolk dribbling slightly out of his mouth and causing Hermione to wince in disgust. Harry kicked him subtly in the shins before Hermione could work herself into a state. Although judging from the vicarious position Ron had placed his meal in relation to her robes, this time Harry wouldn't have blamed her.

McGonagall was passing out timetables, saving the Sixth Years for last as their new schedules required a bit more of her attention. "Mr. Longbottom, I received your grandmother's note but unfortunately your grade is not sufficient to continue with NEWT Transfiguration, while I appreciate the extra tutorial time that you underwent during your summer break, I am still hesitant to bend my standards."

"I really did study a lot over the summer and I really feel that I'm much better than I was last term," Neville stated with a firmness that surprised but gratified Harry. He had long since thought that Neville deserved to have more confidence in himself than he gave himself credit for. He had seen on the train that extra Defense Classes had had a positive effect on his formerly timid friend and was happy to see him finally sticking up for himself. Harry also rather thought that the fact that Neville finally had his own wand could only help him, after all Harry couldn't imagine having to use anything other than phoenix wand for the past five years. Between the confidence in his own ability and a workable wand, Harry thought that Neville stood a good chance of improving greatly this year.

McGonagall considered him for a moment and strangely her eyes seemed to flicker ever so subtly in Harry's direction before saying, "I always admire effort therefore I will allow you into my class on a probationary basis on the condition that you are willing to come to all extra NEWT tutorials, that includes those that are aimed at helping OWL level students as I very much believe that you could benefit from instructing as well as traditional learning."

"Thank you professor!" Neville said brightly, surprised that their notoriously strict Head of House was willing to bend the rules for him.

"Not at all Mr. Longbottom, as I said, I admire effort. However, I would also encourage you to take Charms, I see that you received the necessary OWL score but you didn't request to continue with it."

Neville grimaced, "my grandmother says that Charms is a soft option."

McGonagall's nostrils flared briefly, "yes well I will let Augusta know that just because she failed to get into the class doesn't mean that it's entirely without merit. Effort is appreciated, but never sell your own talents short Mr. Longbottom."

Neville looked a bit bewildered with this compliment.

"Miss Granger... I believe that you received my note and I was glad that you heeded my advice and have seemed to learn from past mistakes when you tempered your schedule this year but I just wanted to ensure that you were happy with your decisions."

Hermione nodded, smiling a bit, "I am Professor, thank you for your advice but I agree that continuing with more than seven subjects does seem rather foolish as I will need the time to properly prepare and I know that you recommended that I choose between Arithmancy and Runes but I honestly couldn't possibly give up either one."

"Very well, honestly I expected no less of you but please bear in mind that while seven NEWT subjects is not unheard of, it is very challenging, if at any point you would like to reconsider your decision for any class- and yes Miss Granger I include Transfiguration in that statement if that is your desire- do not hesitate to see me about dropping it." Hermione smiled and thanked her but Harry would have been shocked if his brilliant friend ever actually took up the offer to drop another class.

"Mr. Weasley...I was impressed with your Defense score, while your overall score was an E your examiners notes on your reactions and technique were quite complimentary."

Ron looked up in surprise, his eyes turning classic red, "really? I didn't know that the examiners even wrote notes."

McGonagall nodded, "they are given to your professors, usually to help identify potential problems for students with barely passing scores. Mr. Weasley I realize that your ambition was to become an Auror but as you know-"

"Snape won't let me into NEWT potions with Exceeding Expectations," Ron grumbled, though Harry knew that Ron was actually rather relieved at being able to escape his most hated professor.

"Professor Snape has very definitive standards for his class," McGonagall clarified, " _however_ , there is option for individual study. While not as effective and will not ultimately result in a full NEWT qualification, if you are able to complete a ANTS exam as a substitute the Auror academy has been known to make exceptions for those with other needed skills."

Ron blinked in surprise, "Really? Er...what's an ANTS exam?"

"It stands for Analogous NEWT Transfer Score," Hermione answered promptly. "Basically it's used to help qualify for career positions if someone isn't able to take a NEWT level course."

McGonagall nodded, "Miss Granger is correct. Though to be accurate the term 'analogous' is a bit misleading, this will not count a full credit but as I said, the Auror Academy has been known to take it, particularly for those lacking in their Potions or Herbology requirements."

Ron smiled, relief shining through his eyes, "I- you mean I could still be an Auror if I wanted to?"

"If that is your desire it will take hard work and frankly Mr. Weasley more dedicated study than your usual standard but yes there are other options for students that are not able to get every required OWL result." Ron looked a bit dazed and McGonagall turned to face Harry. "Actually Mr. Potter I had been fully prepared to offer you the same option but I was most pleasantly surprised to see that you achieved an Outstanding in Potions on your own effort."

"Harry! That's fantastic I can't believe that you didn't think to tell us that!" Hermione squealed with delight while Ron shot him a look of surprised mingled with something like slight betrayal. Harry grinned at her, inwardly amazed at his friend. Only Hermione could hear about a prophecy concerning her best friend and Voldemort and be surprised that he hadn't been more concerned with discussing his OWL scores.

"You mean that getting out of Potions was an option?" Harry asked, unsure whether or not he was joking. He was proud of his score and resolute that he didn't want any short cuts or favors- but the idea of two more years of Snape was an unhappy thought to be sure.

"Potter..."

"Kidding professor," Harry said quickly.

McGonagall's lips thinned and her eyebrow arched in a way that clearly stated her disbelief that he was entirely joking but let it slide as she continued, "Nevertheless, there is a reason I chose not to reveal the ANTS test option until after the exams are finished," she said drily. She let out a snort of air before saying, "I was also very impressed with your Transfiguration score, you certainly showed that you are capable Mr. Potter, I trust that such efforts will continue during this year," she added sternly. Harry nodded, relieved that the unusual sympathy and concern that she had showed him only the day before had not changed her from the stern but caring Head of House that he had grown to respect and care about.

"Yes professor but I wanted to make sure that you received the note from St. Mungo's...it's temporary but-"

"Yes of course, accommodations will be made during the first few weeks during tests until you have received a clean bill of health. You will be going to Madame Pomfrey for your first check-up this evening, correct?" Harry nodded, his cheeks reddening as the rest of the remaining Gryffindors- thankfully only the Sixth Years and a few lingering First Years that didn't look as though they quite knew where to go- looked at him curiously.

As he had been leaving the Healers had finally shared their 'prognosis' with him. His long term, older memories appeared to be fully intact, at least from what they could tell. At first it had been a bit hard for him to make newer memories and when asked about questions from prior examinations his answers had been inadequate. However, it soon seemed that personal information resolved itself whereas facts and skills-based information was a bit harder. Since the rest of his memories had come back quickly the Healers had told him that they expected the problem to resolve itself within only a couple weeks but Harry still worried how he would be able to learn anything if he couldn't remember what he had read for homework or listened to during a lecture. His pale, gaunt features weren't the only disappoint for the start of the year. For once Harry had been fully prepared with all of his assignments, _over-prepared_ in fact, with all of the extra study that he had done with not only Defense but Potions and Transfiguration as well. Best of all was the fact that unlike the previous year his scar no longer burned all day long distracting him at every moment. It was exceedingly difficult preparing for the most important exams in the school career while an angry Dark Lord was causing you constant pain and persistent mood swings. While the visions had continued, the pain during the day had gone and he had been looking forward to seeing how his class performance improved. Of course nothing could ever be that easy.

McGonagall handed him his timetable and Harry was interested to see that he had Defense first thing. This year every Sixth Year- regardless of OWL score- was taking advanced Defense due to the war. Harry considered this a good thing since everyone needed to defend themselves but evidently Hermione was rather disgruntled by the lax standards. "They really should have split the form into two sections- an advanced class for those of us who have shown an aptitude and achieved an OWL and a remedial class for those that haven't."

"I don't think Death Eaters go easy on you if you're not in the advanced class, Hermione," Harry countered.

She looked at bit startled at that assessment but Ron was quick to counter, "yeah but we also shouldn't have to suffer just because _some of us_ have been putting in good hard hours fighting evil since First Year, all by our lonesome I might add, while the rest of them have been up in the dorms having Gobstone tournaments."

Hermione hit him around the shoulder while Harry gave a surprised laugh, tactless as usual, once again Ron's statement was not without some truth to it.

"So what's Tackley like anyway?" Harry asked Hermione as they got up to leave, having already gotten Ron's shaky assessment. Knowing what Hermione thought of authority he had a fair idea of her thoughts and was not disappointed.

"She's brilliant Harry. She's been training Aurors for years and you should see how she answers questions in classes- she's read every Handbook edition for the past 50 years, she knows every possible procedure that could happen. I think she's going to be the best Defense teacher that we've ever had."

Harry raised his eyebrows at that, "better than Lupin?" He had always admired the way Lupin had not only taught them lessons but had also put them at ease in a class as no other professor had ever bothered to do before. McGonagall was a strong and knowledgeable teacher and as he had assured her only the previous night Harry had always known that he could go to her with anything life threatening. However, Harry had never quite felt comfortable with her stern style. While highly effective in keeping order and discipline and most certainly fair for all her students, up until very recently, largely due to their shared problems with the Ministry, he had always found her unapproachable with questions and problems that he had in lessons. He would never have dreamed of taking private tutorials with her as he had once done with Lupin, even before he had been aware of the connection that the man had once shared with his father.

Hermione blushed at the idea that perhaps she was being disloyal to their old professor, who he happened to know she liked very much. "Remus was a great teacher Harry. You know that, I just… well in truth he didn't teach us a lot of entirely… _practical_ things. It was mostly about defending against Dark Creatures, which is important of course but…given that we are at war I just wish there had been a bit more focus on, well curses and jinxes. Don't you?"

Harry shrugged his agreement but pointed out that Lupin had been their teacher both as Third Years and before Voldemort had returned. They made their way to class and Harry convinced Hermione that the second row was perfectly acceptable instead of commandeering the front row as she wanted. The class was filing in, talkative but sedated, there was the usual wariness that came with an unknown entity of a teacher, particularly one known for training Aurors and was therefore unlikely to deal with nonsense. The room was crowded, despite all Sixth Years being accepted into Defense, they had not split them according to House and therefore everyone had class together.

The clock struck the hour and Harry was just thinking that he found it unusual for someone known for following rules to be late when he saw the movement out of the corner of his eye. He was never quite sure why he knew to move when did, perhaps it was the attacks that he had faced that summer, perhaps it was simply a sixth sense but Harry saw the arm raise and light build in the wand. He threw himself to the side, grabbing Hermione down with him as he fell, her startled yell cut off as he kicked the top of the desk to have it fall so that the table was facing out and they would be barricaded behind it.

"Expellerimus!" The spell had been blocked by the table with seconds to spare and Harry was able to use the cover to get off his own shot. He was jumpy and surprised and put more power into the disarming spell than he intended. Later Harry would be very glad indeed when he realized that the professor had gotten a shield up in time or he might have very well have blasted the woman off of her feet.

Harry rose slowly both his wand and his professor's in his hand, only realizing then that she had set them up. She was glaring at Ron, "Mr. Weasley, did I not make it clear that I like to _surprise_ new students on the first day. I am aware that you all have your friends but in my class you are not to give anyone unfair advantages."

Ron glanced between Harry and Tackley, mouth gaping for a moment before he sputtered, "I didn't say anything to him Professor."

"Don't be ridiculous Weasley, I have used that particular trick in every Auror recruitment class for the past 30 years- even those that were prepared before a curse was fired never reacted _that_ well." She turned to Harry with a severe look but conceded grudging praise, "kicking the desk. Good strategy. One that _forethought_ gives you which in spite of the fact that my little demonstration was wasted, I'm glad to see that you used the information to your advantage. Gut reactions and split second thinking inevitably lead to disaster. Plan, counter, plan again, that is what a good Auror does."

Harry frowned at her, "I did react in the moment. Ron didn't say anything to me professor."

Tackley frowned at him and her hand raised before she consciously realized that Harry still had her wand, he couldn't help feeling a bit smug about that at the moment all things considered.

"Harry's telling the truth professor, we never said anything to him. He's just… Harry's really good at Defense ma'am," Hermione interjected, blushing furiously at having to stand up against an authority figure that she respected.

Harry couldn't quite read the expression on Tackley's face as the truth of what they were telling her sunk in but he could tell that pride in her student was not really the predominate emotion. He thought perhaps it was profound disappointment. She had been trying to make a point about letting your guard down and being caught unawares- but Harry had been in a few too many life threatening situations for that lesson to be strictly necessary. A need for refinement certainly, but the importance had already been stressed. "Indeed." She said coldly. "Well perhaps I misjudged you Potter. Tell me, what was your plan when you realized that you were about to be hexed?"

Harry blinked, it had all happened in a moment. "Er… don't be."

The class laughed but Harry knew that he was about to pay for his cheek. Tackley's gaze burned into him and sure enough… "Mr. Potter, I don't appreciate caviler comments in this room. My job is teach you not only to defend yourself but to instill in all of you the seriousness of dangerous situations. While you were lucky in this particular exercise, you cannot rely solely on instinct when fighting. It is the reason that I had assumed you had been warned of the attack. In the future, you will know what to do in such a situation because there will be a clear plan. That is the objective of this class ladies and gentleman- proper prior preparation! Plan, prepare and proceed! That is how I have trained Aurors and that is how I intend to train all of you.

"Every action that you make must be considered carefully. Every decision that you make must be made while mindful of all consequences. You _re_ -act to situations Potter when you should be acting. While not surprising for someone untrained, you especially may have a harder time in this class as unlike many of your peers you seem to have developed some bad habits. You need to focus your energy- and with that your fears and your anger need to be displaced by reason and logic."

Tackley retrieved her wand from Harry with a wordless gesture and had the class resume their seats. The rest of the lesson was unfortunately theory based- never a good start to a defense class in Harry's opinion. Tackley stressed over and over again the importance of controlling ones' emotions. She claimed that as long as a person was focused completely on the task they were on completely, their magic would be stronger. She then claimed that the reason that Harry's disarming spell was not as strong as it could have been was that he wasn't properly focused.

"A proper Disarming Spell will not only capture your opponent's wand but incapacitate them. Mr. Potter did an admirable job for an untrained student but his panic in the moment took focus from the spell. A proper offense needs to be prepared for defense and with the strength that Mr. Potter used it would not have been able to last for very long."

Harry frowned in thought- he was more than confident in his ability to cast that particular spell. _How could it be weak when it had cut clear through her shield?_

Suddenly, the truth came to him, Tackley had been too focused on looking at the room of students in front of her to look at the spells that had been cast. She had raised the shield but had not seen that the two spells had actually connected. She had cast the shield non-verbally so it was hard to judge who had reacted first and therefore she must have thought that she had been too slow to get the shield up in time. She was under the impression that she had received the full brunt of Harry's curse, while in reality, Harry's fear had fueled his power, causing him to break _through_ the shield and disarm her. 'Looking at the forest and forgetting the trees' as Sirius had put in one of his warning in the margins under the section on 'large scene survey while in combat.' Harry had paid particular notice to that section as the pain of reading Sirius' own warnings on something that his godfather himself had forgotten at the Ministry had been especially hard for Harry to take. As was the section on 'underestimating your opponent'.

It didn't take long for Harry to see that Tackley did in fact know her facts and figures. She was a precise, intelligent person. However, her insistence on control of emotions bothered him, it reminded him of his Occulumency lessons with Snape, only worse because this was Defense. If there was one thing that Harry knew it was that every time he had been in a hard situation and managed to get out of it, high emotions had played a part in it. Magic, to him, was fueled by emotion. It WAS emotion. He found it highly suspicious that a highly trained Auror would think differently and found it even more suspicious that she seemed determined to curb their power.

It wasn't until after class ended that he found that he was not the majority opinion. As the Sixth Year Gryffindors exited the room, Harry found himself discussing the lesson with more than just his usual two companions.

"Alright that's it, everyone's seen for themselves now it's time for us to place the bets!" Seamus called out as soon as they were a good distance away from the room.

"Excuse me?" Hermione asked, hands on her hips and a frown of disapproval on her lips.

"It's like this Hermione, we've been saying it for years, the DADA job is jinxed, everyone knows it. The only thing that changes is how they get booted every year. So Dean, Anthony and I are running a little pool. How does Tackley get the ax?" he called out, arms spread wide. "Oh- and to make the odds fair, we've already stipulated that Potter has to go last."

"Excuse me?" Harry asked echoing Hermione now that he had been dragged into it.

"No offense mate but you generally have something to do with how the Defense teacher loses it so we can't have you swaying odds. You're free to play, but only after all the bets are in," Seamus answered with a cheeky smile.

"This is disgusting!" Hermione complained, "you're betting on her losing her job."

"Haven't you been listening Hermione? Tackley losing her job is a certainty, we're betting on HOW she loses it," Dean answered with a smirk.

There was a round of laughter and before Hermione could say 'I'm deducting House points' the other House prefects had already placed their bets. The Slytherins left, as they rarely did anything that they themselves did not initiate and nothing that started from a Gryffindor but the other Sixth Years were keen to participate. Most of the reviews were in Tackley's favor. Harry's classmates found her strong, confident and professional.

"Tackley's brilliant, isn't she?" Terry Boot enthused. "Her lessons over the summer were amazing. I've never seen someone take a plan on paper and turn it into something so flawless in real execution." That comment set the tone. Boot was consistently at the top of the class, along with Daphne Greengrass and Hermione and was known to be critical of lessons that were not up to his lofty standards. The ideas of how she would be forced to leave were based around the idea that a woman of her skills would not be satisfied as a school teacher for long.

"She's going to get a better job offer."

"She's going to fight against You-Know-Who and we know what happens then."

Hermione frowned, disapproving of the endeavor but reluctant not to voice her own opinion as well. "I wouldn't be so sure that Tackley will leave voluntarily just because you all think she's too good for the job. After all, look at Professor Flitwick, he's won awards for his Charms creation and his a master duelist. Snape was the youngest Potion's master in two centuries- they're still teaching here."

"Nobody else wants Snape," Ron muttered as the others laughed.

After the clamoring came to an end and it became dangerously close to the time when Transfiguration would start the betting wound down.

"Alright ladies and gentlemen that's everyone except for our esteemed personal DADA destroyer himself. What did you think Harry?" asked Seamus.

Harry glared at his dorm mate before deciding it wasn't worth arguing about and shrugged, "I don't understand why she focused an entire lesson on controlling your emotions when you need them to use magic in a fight. I'll take the long odds- she's a Death Eater."

There were several shocked gasped and more than few words of reproach from some of the girls about the accusation.

"Don't be ridiculous, Harry. Tackley's right, you can't be effective if you run into a situation with emotions running high. Letting panic or fear or anger get away from you- that's what gets people hurt," Hermione lectured.

"What about accidental magic then?" Ron countered.

"It's unpredictable, there are loads of examples of people being hurt by accidental magic. Not to mention that it's entirely unreliable. If you're in a life or death situation you need to be sure that you know what you're doing," Hermione asserted firmly. There were a few murmurs of agreement from some of the other Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs as well as all of the Ravenclaws.

"I've never heard of anyone hurting themselves with accidental magic," Harry argued. "Isn't the point of it to protect yourself in an emergency?"

"Harry's right," Dean agreed, nodding beside him. "When I was a kid my mum was driving and the car in front of us swerved and stopped short, we were going way too fast for the car to stop normally but somehow I got the car to…jump over the lane. I didn't even know what happened at the time, my mum was frantic, obviously she had no idea about magic as a muggle but she kept screaming 'thank god, thank god, it's a miracle. We could have all died.'" Dean was grinning now. "I mean it wasn't really funny at the time but my mum doesn't usually get so worked up," he shrugged, "my point is, I only did it _because_ I was scared, and it saved it us from a wreck."

Lavender shook her head though and somehow managed to speak before Hermione, who was already wrangling arguments in her favor. "But there are cases of people that have hurt people next to them or family members with accidental magic. Harry you should know that better than anyone, I heard that you blew up your aunt once."

"Not technically my aunt, she was my uncle's sister and trust me, she was the danger in that situation. She deserved it," Harry retorted sharply. There was a mixture of laughter and uneasiness that accompanied this response since many of them didn't know the full story when it came to the Dursleys but after 6 years of classes together, most of his classmates knew enough to know that Harry didn't get along with them. Harry wondered how many of them were thinking back to the article over the summer and decided to speak quickly. "Listen, accidental magic aside, if you're fighting for your life, you need every advantage that you can get and you can't have magic without emotion."

Ron nodded, "I'm with Harry about the magic but I don't think Tackley's a Death Eater. I think she's more a Lockhart than a Quirrell."

"What?" Parvarti and Padma asked in perfect twin tandem.

Ron grinned, "Quirrell was evil and possessed with Voldemort, he purposely taught us nothing all year because he never wanted us to learn how to defend ourselves. Lockhart was an idiot but he actually thought that he could teach us something."

"You're comparing Tackley to Lockhart?" Boot asked nearly scandalized.

"Well maybe not to that git's extent but the idea still applies," Ron defended only to be roundly laughed at by the rest.

Hermione however would not be deterred from the original argument. "Magic is a _skill_ Harry. There's intent and concentration, but those aren't the same thing as trying to cast something out of anger or something."

"What about the Patronus charm? It's _powered_ by happy memories." Ron shot back.

"Or even the Unforgivables?" Harry said quietly, his thoughts drifting back to his own failed attempts at one the previous year at the Department of Mysteries. He had told no one of his 'break in morals' so to speak, not even Ron and Hermione, and he wasn't planning on ever saying anything, he did not think that they would understand. "You have to really mean to hurt someone to use them."

"Where did you get that idea?" Susan Bones asked in surprise.

"It's not in any book I've ever read, and Moody… well Crouch never said anything in class," Hermione said frowning.

Harry shrugged uncomfortably, "you can't learn everything in class Hermione," was all he said, his voice quiet. Dean and Seamus exchanged wary glances and Harry was satisfied that his response was vague enough that any number of scenarios could be attributed to it.

"My point is, if you're going to fight against Voldemort, you better bring your most powerful spells- and without emotion, it's never going to work."

"Harry, you might not want to hear this but maybe you're just upset that Tackley singled you out for having bad habits," Hermione pointed out with a touch of condescension. "You've always done well in Defense and now…"

"And has it occurred to _you_ that _Tackley_ was upset that I got past her little trick?" Harry asked edgily.

"Seemed to be that way to me, mate," Ron said loyally and Harry gave him a friendly clasp on the back.

"If you were thinking logically last year Harry, maybe you could have avoided what happened at the Ministry," Neville pointed out.

Harry stopped walking, blinking in shock. After all this time he was almost surprised that the mention of Sirius affected him so strongly. It felt like a terrible punch in the gut. The wind had been knocked out of him.

"I'm…sorry Harry I shouldn't have said anything like that. You know that I wouldn't have changed anything but… well, I just meant that you were caught up in… in the moment I guess," Neville explained awkwardly.

"That wasn't your fault, Harry," Ron said strongly, glaring at Neville. "There was no reason for you not to think that Sirius was in trouble." Their classmates shifted uncomfortably. After the news broke over the summer everyone was aware of what had happened to Sirius Black, and how he had been related to Harry.

In Hermione's defense, Harry didn't think the bushy-haired girl consciously did it, but after years of Harry seeing the look on her face he could easily recognize the expression that passed over her like a shadow. It was the look that Hermione got when she lectured Ron, or the twins, about a bad idea that they were convinced was going to work but failed. It was the look she had nearly every day in class when she wasn't called on and someone else gave a wrong answer. It was the look she had when she was either going to say- or at least felt entitled to say- 'I told you so'. Hermione had warned him that it was a trap and he hadn't believed her.

"Right," Harry said quietly, looking at Hermione in the eye. "Well… I have to…I need to go." Harry stalked off in the other direction, intending to take the roundabout way through the trick tapestry in order to get to Transfiguration on time. He could hear Ron say, "he's alright, just give him some time to himself." He was grateful for Ron stopping anyone from going after him because Ron was right, he did need a moment to think. Neville's words- harsh though they might be- had given him cause to think. Was it true? He had known that it had been reckless to go the Ministry, there was no denying that. And it had been obvious that he had been naïve to believe that Voldemort would never think to use their connection against him. But was the real problem something deeper? Harry had always prided himself on his instincts. They had protected him from a particularly angry Vernon when he was younger, and Voldemort as he had gotten older but if he had really stopped to think logically and not emotionally would his godfather- his one true family member- still be alive.

Harry arrived barely on time, having taken the longest route possible. He was the last person to arrive and McGonagall shot him a speculative look when she saw that he had arrived separately from his peers. This lesson was shared with the Ravenclaws, which always put Hermione on edge a bit. While lacking the cruelty and mockery of the Slytherins, the Ravenclaws were much more competitive about their grades and were constantly trying to beat Hermione when it came to answering questions for House points. By her straight backed position at the front of the room, Harry could see that Hermione had already primed herself for the first question of the day.

"Good morning and might I add congratulations to all of you that have made it to NEWT level. This year will be even more challenging than in the past and as you are all young adults at this point the responsibility for keeping up with this course falls to you. I expect your full dedication and for you all to be proactive in asking for assistance if you deem it necessary. You cannot afford to fall behind, is that clear?"

There were several nods and Harry could see the Ravenclaws sit up straighter in their chairs at the challenge. Ron grimaced at him and Harry could read his thoughts well, OWL year had been hard and next year for the NEWTs was supposedly even worse, couldn't the year in between be a break?

McGonagall explained that this year they were learning to cast non-verbally, a topic that Harry had read a lot about in his father's journals. James Potter had been a prodigy when it came to Transfiguration to the point that Harry had felt wholly inadequate when he realized how much better his father had been at magic when James had been his age. However, Harry had been surprised how well James had been able to break down his thoughts for someone that was not as gifted. Harry had discovered a long time ago that natural talent in a subject and teaching it to others was not always the same thing. After all it had not been lost of Harry that Snape actually was good at brewing Potions, he just lacked patience with explaining them because he considered everything to be obvious.

Harry smirked just a bit to himself as he recalled some of the advice in the journals. James had told him that one had been to keep a clear picture in their mind about what they wanted to happen. He could see his father's writing in front of him: _Magic, after all, is fueled by intent so as long as you channel enough of your will into a spell, even if the wand movement is slightly off or the words aren't always right, usually the spell will work because of the power behind your will._

It was the argument that Harry had just tried to use in Defense and knew that Hermione despised because it wasn't precise enough. Hermione loved procedure. She was an expert when it came to theory and recall and there was no denying that Hermione was usually the first among them to master any spell. However, she was close-minded in her belief that there was only one way to accomplish anything. In Harry's mind- if magic was possible, was it really so shocking that it was different for each person?

The first lesson of the year was a review of vanishing quills, only without speaking. Once again Hermione was the first to accomplish the task, but this time- using the tips that he had studied each night from his father's journals when he wasn't reading from his mother's or HBP's books- Harry was a very close second. Hermione threw him an uncertain smile, unsure if he was still upset by the comment that Neville had made earlier. Upset was not the word he would have used to describe how he was feeling. Mostly he had been shocked that it had been Neville to say something so... insensitive. Neville was one of the most considerate people that he knew and for the blond boy to bring up such a delicate topic so bluntly was out of character for him.

The rest of the day passed by slowly. In Charms after the lesson, Flitwick also gave them the instructions for their first 'project' of the year. Along with Daphne, Harry was supposed to work out a potion's experiment that 'proved the theory that there was always an exception to a rule'. Hermione's eyes had lit up when she had realized that the projects were phrased as a riddle that she was expected to solve on top of actually doing the assignment.

Ron had groaned aloud and Harry hoped that Daphne had a clearer grasp of Potions than he did because he was barely good enough to follow the directions that he was given, never mind having to experiment with principles that had been created by wizards more skilled than he was. The Potion did not necessarily have to be complicated- after all this was a Year level assignment and not everyone was in NEWT Potions but there would be points for creativity and Harry knew that if Snape was in charge of grading them in any way he would be looking to mark him down. If he could manage it he would probably use a poor project as a reason to kick Harry out of his class.

By dinner time Harry was dragging his feet and counting the minutes until he could see Madame Pomfrey- a sentiment that he had never before had in his life. As the day had worn on the slight tension in his muscles had grown to aching soreness. His lingering fatigue turned to full blown exhaustion. He looked at his meal with distaste, his appetite uncertain. He felt simultaneously hungry and nauseated and the effect was making him irritable which made Hermione's next comment more annoying than it should have been.

"Are you going to tell us about what Professor McGonagall wanted with you yesterday, Harry?" Hermione asked before he had even sat down.

"Can I eat my dry chicken and wheat bread first? I would hate to ruin the taste," Harry snapped.

Ron snickered and helped himself to some more mashed potatoes. "If he didn't tell us last night during dinner why would you think that he would tell us tonight?" he asked, and Hermione blinked at the fact that Ron had been the one to point out the obvious instead of her for a change.

Harry sighed, pushing up his glasses and he rubbed tiredly at his eyes, both elbows on the table. "I have to go up to the hospital wing after dinner, do you both want to come with me? We can talk on the way there. It's not that long a story but I would prefer it just to be the three of us." His two friends agreed readily and Harry didn't mention the fact that he was grateful that he didn't have to venture up to the wing alone. They ate rather quickly- Ron obviously faster than both of them and yet still somehow the last to be finished- and made their way out of the hall.

"Alright mate, what's the story?"

Harry sighed, "did either of you catch the article that the _Prophet_ ran on my birthday? The one about the Dursleys?"

Both of his friends' faces darkened. "Yeah we saw that." Ron said, his voice a bit rougher than usual.

"I had just gotten back from holiday at the time. I had wanted to write to you but obviously we weren't able to reach you. I'm sorry Harry that was awful of them to put that in the paper for everyone to read like that," Hermione answered sympathetically.

"Has anyone said anything about it to you?" Harry asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. "Malfoy missed the article, he doesn't read the paper much, but he never said anything after being at the Ministry which I found strange. I figured someone would have said something to him and I can't imagine he wouldn't want to take the mickey out of me if thought that Vernon was actually beating up on me."

Hermione winced at the phrase 'beat up on me' but shook her head. "Other than Parkinson and Zabini, everyone else was in the D.A., they would never talk about you to Malfoy." Harry blinked at this unexpected display of loyalty. "I don't know why the Slytherins never said anything but maybe they missed the article as well, or maybe they heard from the others that there was nothing to know, I know they're at least friendly with a few of the Ravenclaws."

"What do you mean, 'heard from the others'?"

Hermione answered, "well on the first day of class some of the D.A. members asked us about it. They wanted to make sure that you were alright and..."

"They wanted to know if the rumors were true," Ron confirmed when Hermione looked as though she was trying to decide if she should spare his feelings.

Harry nodded, he hadn't expected any less. In fact if he had heard one of his friends was possibly being abused at home he would want to find out if it were true as well.

"What did you tell them?" Harry asked anxiously. Ron especially knew better than anyone what the Dursleys were like.

Ron rolled his eyes with impatience, "I told them that all that you were a terribly abused orphan and that we should all pity you and feel really sorry for you. That's why everyone keeps congratulating you one being named Quidditch Captain, or did you that they were just being nice?"

"Ronald!" Hermione gasped shocked and angry while Harry laughed. "No really. What did you tell them?"

Ron shrugged before giving Harry a wink. "What do you think we told them? We told them that the _Prophet's_ been making up stories about you for years and that anyone who believes what they have to say are a bunch of saps."

"So they all think the _Prophet_ just made up the whole story?"

Both of them nodded, looking rather smug, "you should have heard Hermione. She told them all that anyone that even read the _Prophet_ was 'asking to be lied to'," Ron laughed.

Hermione looked pleased with herself. "it's none of their business anyway. But Harry... what the article said?"

Harry's good humor at his friends' protectiveness deflated, he had not been looking forward to this conversation but he was glad that he was having it with his two best friends as opposed to the whole school. "About yelling at me in hospital? Pretty much accurate," he confirmed. "In Vernon's defense, he had just been attacked by Death Eaters, had his house burned down, his wife was unresponsive in critical care, and his son was having a nervous breakdown. His temper was a bit short."

"That doesn't give him the right to grab you, Harry!" Hermione shot back angrily.

Harry raised both hands in the air in the form of surrender, "I understand that Hermione but you and I both know that my uncle..." Harry inclined his head as though to say the statement was obvious. He had been complaining about his aunt and uncle since First Year.

"Actually Harry I don't know that much about your aunt or your uncle. I know that your uncle is... unpleasant and that he's never cared that much about your well-being but... you've never really told us everything that he... does he hurt you?" she ended bluntly, her eyes shimmering with concern. "Is that what McGonagall wanted to talk to you about?"

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, noticing that they were not far off from the hospital wing and wanting the discussion to be over before they got in front of Madame Pomfrey.

"Well, it's a bit complicated actually. I saw Percy this summer," he said, turning towards Ron whose expression showed surprise before shifting to anger. "And what did that git have to say for himself? You know he still won't even talk to Dad at work?"

"Well he had plenty to say to me. He's become quite the politician your brother by the way. Fudge must be proud of his baby boy there. No straight talk, just lots of...implications. Basically he wants me to work for the Ministry."

"That traitor doesn't talk to you for over a year and throws Mum's Christmas jumper back in her face and now he expects you to work for the Ministry that made your life hell last year?" Ron shouted furiously.

"What does this have to do with the Dursleys?" Hermione asked suspiciously, looking as though Harry was purposefully changing the subject.

"After Percy left, 'Florence Stavley of Wizarding Child Protective Services' showed up and... well I don't think it's much of a coincidence that moments after I reject the Ministry's offer to work nicely with them they suddenly remember that I'm an orphan in need of their help. They wanted to take me into custody until Dumbledore convinced the Head of the Department that he had somewhere safer. Although all things considered, it might have been better for once for someone to outmaneuver Dumbledore if it meant I could have avoided Snape all summer," Harry added thoughtfully.

Hermione frowned, "honestly Harry you would think that after a few weeks of staying with Snape you would see that Professor Dumbledore must be right about him."

"Right about what?" Ron challenged, "Snape's ability to play both sides? We've known that since First Year. Just because Snape was smart enough not to do Harry in with Dumbledore watching doesn't mean that he didn't want to. He took Harry to a party that was attacked by werewolves and Dementors!"

"Professor Snape had no idea that was going to happen!"

"No he didn't," Harry agreed because he knew that when faced with actual facts Hermione was an unrelenting force. Harry didn't need facts for suspicion. Because of the effects of the poison, Harry might never know if there was something vital that he was forgetting about that night or not but if there was one thing he was certain of, Malfoy- at least- had been up to something and while he didn't know if Snape knew about it or not, he still considered it highly suspicious that the man was supposedly a skilled spy and yet never seemed to actually stop anything from happening.

"But whether he's loyal to Dumbledore or not doesn't change the fact that Snape still isn't a good person, Hermione. Look at Umbridge, she's not a Death Eater but she would have cast the Cruciatus Curse on me last year if you hadn't stopped her. People don't need to follow Voldemort to be bad people. The next time you see a Hufflepuff First Year crying their eyes out because Snape humiliated them in front of the entire class because they were so nervous with him staring them down that they exploded a cauldron, why don't you tell them that it's all alright because the Headmaster of the school trusts him."

Hermione blinked in surprise, for once not having a response ready.

Ron nodded, seeming satisfied with this answer but after a moment Hermione was frowned again. "Harry you never answered my question...does your uncle hurt you?" She spoke quietly but with firmness and Harry knew that she would not settle for any half answers.

Harry hesitated a moment too long and regretted it because Hermione pounced on the only conclusion that there was "Oh Harry... I know the Ministry can be...manipulative but your uncle... have you ever thought about reporting him?" she asked tentatively.

"I'm not going to the Ministry, I don't trust the lot of them.

"Well then you should still say something to someone else. McGonagall or Dumbledore maybe. You shouldn't have to worry about protecting him."

Harry frowned, "Hermione... when have I ever protected my uncle? I've told anyone that's ever asked that I hate staying with the Dursleys and I've even asked if I could stay at Hogwarts in the summer. Dumbledore knows that my relatives are bit... well off, but to tell you the truth at this point it really doesn't matter that much anymore. I'm not a little kid that needs to worry about whether my aunt will remember to leave the door open for me when I get home. I can take care of myself."

"Leave the door open? You mean she didn't pick you up at school?" Hermione asked outraged.

Harry pursed his lips. "We've established that the Dursleys are terrible, you don't need to act surprised now," he added testily, his exhaustion making him a bit short with her. "But to answer your original question, that meeting yesterday was Florence Stavely trying to use the Dursleys to get me under the Ministry's thumb, and me telling her shove off. Have the Dursleys hurt me? Yeah they have. Are they still doing it? Nothing I can't handle." Harry closed his eyes thinking back to the time at the end of the Third Year when he had had that bright shining moment when he had believed that he would be living with Sirius. Nothing had made him happier. He knew a large part of him was fighting against leaving the Dursleys so hard because no matter where he went at this point the home that he truly wanted was lost to him forever. Any other place would just remind him that he would never have his true family. His parents, Sirius- they were lost to him and as happy as they might be, wherever they were, Harry couldn't help but miss them.

"Harry do you really think that was a smart idea?"

"Do you really think that the Ministry using me as their little puppet is a good one?" Harry challenged, they had reached the ward. "Listen, it's over...for now, just drop it alright?"

Hermione looked as though she wanted to do anything but let the discussion end so unsatisfactorily but relented in the face of meeting with the school nurse.

"Mr. Potter," Madame Pomfrey greeted them, "it is so nice to see you able to walk into my ward unassisted, usually you find yourself being carried in unconscious."

Harry gave her a tight lipped smile, "sorry to make it so boring for you, you know I like to make these little visits memorable."

"Trust me Potter _phantasies interius_ poisoning is the kind of trouble only you could find," a silky cold voice answered from the shadows and Harry started at being confronted by the presence of the Potion's Master unexpectedly twice in two days.

"What-"

Snape rolled his eyes, "honestly Potter use your head for something other than holding up that ridiculous hair of yours, why do you think I'm here? _Phantasies interius_ has been known to have complicated reactions and is not something your average school mediwitch is familiar with. No matter her prodigious skill, of course," Snape added with a slight, rather ironic, bow in Pomfrey's connection.

"What are you two doing here?" Pomfrey asked Ron and Hermione, "while this might be the first time Potter has come voluntarily for my services, he's certainly walked back enough times."

"And he's visited us enough times," Ron glancing at Hermione who had spent a significant portion of her Second Year in the wing between her disastrous attempt at Polyjuice and later being petrified. "We're here for moral support," he added with a grin in Harry's direction. Harry rolled his eyes.

Pomfrey pursed her lips, unhappy whenever there were people that were not expressly patients under her care in the ward, "very well. Have a seat Potter and hold out your arm."

Harry had expected this, they needed to test his blood to make sure that the poison had in fact abandoned his system. They had tested him every day at St. Mungo's. Unfortunately he had learned that Wizarding methods were still rather primitive and braced himself for the small incision made with the silver knife. There was a slight sting and nothing more. Madame Pomfrey went over to test the blood while Snape came forward, raising his wand slowly, "I need to cast the diagnostic charms," he explained quietly and Harry was a bit surprised at the curtesy. He would have assumed that Snape would have started firing off spells, like the Healer had done during his second exam at St. Mungo's. Harry had grabbed the man's wand in alarm and punched him before he had realized that the spells weren't going to harm him. It had ended unpleasantly with Harry held down while the Healer dosed him with Potions to knock him out. There had been discussion of returning to him restraints before reason had prevailed and someone had pointed out that if Healers knew enough to explain what they were about to do to Aurors and Hit Wizards, perhaps a boy that had fought a number of Death Eaters deserved the same consideration.

Harry nodded, well used to these charms at this point, though Snape's charms felt a bit different. Perhaps it was simply the fact that he wasn't not as well practiced as professional Healers but they felt a bit courser, less...targeted than the one's he had grown used to over his stay in hospital.

"On a scale of one to ten, how much pain would you say you were in?" Snape asked in that same quiet voice and Harry was almost forced to admit that the man had a surprising bedside manner. He never would have guessed. Granted there was no warm compassion or tender touch but at least unlike when he teaching Potions to eleven and twelve year olds he wasn't harsh and belittling.

"I would say a four," Harry answered truthfully but quietly, hoping that Hermione and Ron wouldn't hear. Too late.

"Harry!" they both shouted out.

"You should have said something to us!" Ron demanded.

"You should have gone to see Madame Pomfrey before now."

"Could she have done anything?" Harry asked Snape calmly.

"No. At this point any additional potions to the ones that you are already taking would be considered a detriment. If you were in excruciating pain we should always place you into a Dreamless sleep until your body recovered but I think we can agree that that option is a bit extreme in your circumstance. What exactly are you calling a four?" he asked.

Harry glanced over and saw that Pomfrey had slipped into her office, no doubt to help run the tests on his blood before answering. "Feels like the day after an Occlumency lesson," Harry answered.

Snape frowned at his answer. "The day _after_ Occlumency? Was there considerable pain after your...lessons?"

Harry looked at him in disbelief. "You're kidding right? After having my head split open for a couple hours? No I felt great."

Snape was silent for a moment, "and what would you consider a three on your scale?" he asked as though still uncertain of what Harry's description had meant. Harry stopped to consider. It was strange, the top of his scale was fairly clear in his mind. The worst of the _phantasies interius_ was really a 8.5, the Cruciatus a 9- because nothing had compared to the sheer agony of Voldemort's possession of him in the Department of Mysteries. That had been a pure 10, the mere memory of making him shiver a bit. However, strange though it might be, Harry had few experiences with less painful incidents.

"Getting hit with a bludger in the side. Bruised but nothing broken."

Snape nodded, continuing his charms before asking, "Have you been doing a lot of magic today?"

Harry shook his head, "most of today was theory in class and I haven't done any outside of it. Charms we didn't use wands and Transfiguration we only tried for the last ten minutes- but I did do manage vanish my quill non-verbally, I don't know if that uses more magic than usual or not."

Snape shook his head. "Nonverbal spells do not require any more magic than verbal spells, its about clear focus and intent. Willpower. However, stronger magical ability can help to diffuse that focus from your mind to your wand."

Harry nodded, not sure if he understood the last part of Snape's explanation, which the professor had seemed to add only as an afterthought. "Right well, I had Ron help me move my things in dorm last night. The only other magic I did was in the beginning of Defense- Tackley used me as her little class demonstration."

There was an odd look that passed over the Potion's Master's face that Harry could not interpret, for a moment he thought it might have been amusement but he couldn't be sure. "And pray tell, how did that go?"

"I blocked her attack and disarmed her... I cut through her shield but from how she acted I think she just thinks I hit her before she got it up."

Harry caught Ron's smile and Hermione's look of brief surprise and Harry knew that although Ron had seen what had happened, Hermione had still been under the table from when Harry had thrown her back and she hadn't realized that he had cut through her admired teacher's shield.

Snape only nodded, his expression thoughtful but the expected scoff of disbelief or snide comment of how much better Harry thought he was than his betters didn't come. "That would require a considerable burst of magic even if it wasn't for a very long time. Most often when a spell impacts a shield it will shatter or collapse it, it cut through with the shield still intact means that there was a very specific trajectory of the spell. Did you feel any worse after using such a concentrated spell?"

Harry thought back, "a little tired, same thing happened yesterday actually when I was getting on the train. That one was an accident," he added, knowing that he wasn't supposed to be doing magic. He saw Hermione blush and he shot her a smile to let her know that he didn't blame her in the slightest for her father's concerns. "But no pain or anything."

Snape nodded, his expression thoughtful but at least absent of its normal sneer as he stepped back into the office to speak with Pomfrey.

"Harry you should have told us that you were in pain," Hermione admonished. Harry gave her a tired smile, unwilling to get into a debate about how it wouldn't have changed anything.

Snape didn't linger after delivering his report to the matron and it was with relief that Harry only had to face one adult telling him how 'fragile' his condition was. It was a conversation he had been forced to have more than once at St. Mungo's and he had not been looking forward to the overprotective mediwitch coddling him in front of Snape of all people.

"Well Mr. Potter you seem to be recovering remarkably well all things considered. No trace of poison, your potions seem to be working well. I know you've been tired and there is residual pain but unfortunately that is just going to take time. I could admit you to the ward but there isn't much point."

"No," Harry answered quickly. "I'm alright, thank you."

Madame Pomfrey pursed her lips as though 'I'm alright' was a blasphemous phrase. "Indeed. I need you to come back in a week so that I can check you over again, I think the pain should be gone by that point but you might still feel fatigue for up to another month."

Harry groaned while Ron looked fairly horrified with such a prognosis. Hermione took the news better but Harry knew that had more to do with their mutual muggle upbringing where illnesses and recoveries were expected to take longer. Ron was generally mystified if any injury required more than a day or two to recover from. "Thank you Madame Pomfrey, I know I'm grounded from Quidditch but can I still conduct the trials as long as I'm not on a broom? I can have someone else fly," Harry explained, glancing at Ron.

"Honestly Potter, is there any activity that you enjoy that doesn't result in terrible injury?" Pomfrey huffed. "Technically I can't ban you from being on the field and holding a clipboard but if you even touch that deathtrap Firebolt of yours I will make it my life's mission to see you banned for the year, are we clear?"

Harry grinned at her and thanked her again before leaving the Hospital Wing.

HPHPHP

" _Open the cell doors," Harry hissed as he stepped over the crumbled, bloodied bodies of the two Aurors that had dared to oppose him. It had been fun to play with them. How he wished their families could have been present as well to witness their screams and cries. The third man shook with delicious terror, Harry could feel it and it delighted him. And it disgusted him. Horrified him. Sick pleasure mixed with pure revulsion warred within him._

 _The man opened the cell doors and Harry's faithful were restored to him once more. Falling to their knees, he could feel their fear, their devotion, their hatred in a palpable way. Never before had he been so close to his followers, never before had his control over the mind-magics granted him this level of control._

 _He delighted in the power. He was revolted by it._

 _He greeted them all with cold indifference, casting out the Cruciatus on the nearest as a reminder that they had failed him. He needed them to know that he had left them to this fate not because he lacked the power to release them, but because they deserved punishment. Lord Voldemort could control all, there were no limits to his power. "Come, we have much to do."_

Harry woke with a grasping shudder and Ron hovering over him worriedly. He was drenched in sweat and he was trembling, he looked bleakly at his friend and Ron was quick enough to move before Harry retched over the side of the bed.

It was not the most gruesome vision that Harry had ever had. There had been worse scenes over the summer. Scenes with innocent men and women. Scenes with children. Scenes with more blood, or more agonized screams.

But this was different. Harry had felt...bonded by the emotions that he had felt. Not just channeling Voldemort's sadistic desires, and grim satisfaction at having committed yet another murder but everyone's emotions. And he was confounded by the shocking and yet visceral certainty that it had been _he_ had been the one feeling the tortured pain of the victims and fanatical loyalty of Voldemort's followers and had somehow forced the connection onto the madman instead of the other way around. How was it possible? Had the connection grown stronger? Was Voldemort truly as powerful as he seemed to believe in that moment when he had felt the emotions of others for the first time or was it Harry that was channeling that power?

"Neville, get McGonagall," Ron commanded.

"No!" Harry gasped out. "It's...it's alright. I'm alright. I- I'm sorry I woke you all up."

Seamus and Dean waved him off, both looking at him with concern. Dean went to the bathroom and filled a cup of water that he gave to Harry warily, and Harry nodded his thanks weakly. Neville looked at him appraisingly, what would have once been a shy and timid look was now bold and direct.

"It's fine, really. I'm sorry...just er go back to sleep." His four roommates looked at him as though he had grown another head and he knew that he must look awful. His hands were still shaking, tremors ran down his spine.

"Come on," Ron said quietly and led Harry wordlessly down to the Common Room.

Harry was still shaking slightly, trying to compose himself.

"I didn't realize that you were still getting those visions," Ron said, directing Harry towards the sofa instead of an armchair so that they could sit closer together. Harry was grateful for the contact, after being inside Voldemort's lifeless skin it was nice to be around the properly living.

"Why would you think that they would stop?" Harry asked skeptically.

Ron gave shrug and tilted his head as though to say 'touché'. He was quiet for a moment, "What did you see?"

"Voldemort just busted his Death Eaters out of Azkaban. Killed two of the guards."

Ron's eyes widened. Harry drew a hand up to his burning scar and winced. "Well...that's not terribly unexpected, is it?" Ron asked in a surprisingly calm way.

Harry shook his head, but his mind wasn't even focused on the latest threat of the escaped Death Eaters. He couldn't shake the differences in his vision. _Was_ his connection growing? Why now? He started to get up, to go back to bed but suddenly, in the dark of the quiet Common Room, he couldn't help but unburden himself of his worries.

"Ron...it was strange. When I have these visions...I- I told you that I see them from Voldemort's perspective, right?" he asked hesitantly. Though he had shared all of the content of his visions, he had always tried to avoid describing the actual experience. The idea of sharing such a close, personal link with not only his parent's murderer but a sick, sadistic man that had no limits for cruelty was not something he liked to remind his close friends about.

Ron nodded, his expression uneasy. Harry glanced down at his hands, unwilling to look up and see any horror on his friend's face. "When I have these visions...I can feel what Voldemort feels. How...happy he is when he's torturing someone. Or how when he casts the Killing Curse he doesn't even care. But this time..." Harry swallowed and he caught the motion of Ron wiping his mouth nervously. "I could feel everything that _everyone_ was feeling. I could feel how scared they were. How much pain they were in. I could feel how much his Death Eaters wanted to go back to him. How some of them _didn't_ really want to go back but needed to. It was..." Harry shook his head, unable to fully explain the sensation of so many contrasting emotions coming at him- feeling them but not experiencing them as if they were his own.

Ron was quiet for a moment, his expression surprised but concerned. "Wow mate...that must be awful."

Harry nodded releasing a shuddering breath. He couldn't even say precisely what was upsetting him but the feeling of discomfort could not be escaped.

"I- I think you need to talk to Dumbledore, mate. I know you don't like going to him with this kind of thing but... well we kept a lot of stuff to ourselves last year and in the end it really didn't help." Ron put up his hands before Harry could object. "Most of that was on the Order, Harry. They should have told us- well you at least, a lot more, Dumbledore should have told you a lot more. But someone has to make the start and..." his friend gave him a soft smile, "looks like you're going to have to be the bigger man."

Harry blinked, "You've been hanging out with Hermione a bit too much. You've gotten good at this whole 'practical advice' thing."

Ron laughed, "well Hermione can't have all the good ideas."

Harry smiled.

"You gonna go now?" Ron asked.

Harry blinked tiredly at the clock, "now? It's nearly four in the morning. There's nothing that can be done about the Death Eaters, it was done by the time I saw it and as for me... I can wait until daylight before I start knocking on Dumbledore's door."

"Why not? I'm fairly certain that Dumbledore's some sort of magical creature that doesn't need sleep or anything."

"Maybe that's why he's so mad- sleep deprivation."

Ron nodded as though seriously considering this possibility. "You going to get any more sleep tonight?"

Harry shook his head, "no but you can. I don't need a chaperone."

Ron shook his head, "It's not a problem, I'll sleep when you have Potions tomorrow," he added with a grin.

 **A/N: Happy New Year.**


	18. Old EnemiesNew Allies

**Chapter 18: Old Enemies...New Allies**

The next morning Harry and Ron quietly told Hermione about his vision. She was expectedly worried about the changes that had developed and she was quick to tell him to speak to the Headmaster as well. Harry assured her that he had every intention of doing so as soon as possible but for the moment there was nothing he could do. The Headmaster was not currently in the Great Hall and Harry suspected that he must be at the Ministry or even Azkaban itself working on sorting everything out. Hermione was satisfied with this arrangement but she still kept shooting him nervous glances and Harry tried not to be annoyed with her concern. She was still upset with him about not saying anything more about the Dursleys and now the fact that there was yet another new development with her scar it had sent her worrying into overdrive.

Harry glanced at the Slytherin table, wondering how many of them knew what had occurred last night. There didn't appear to be anything interesting or different in their conversation and Malfoy was no more arrogant than he usually was, leading Harry to believe that the breakout was still a secret. Harry shivered as he remembered looking at Lucius' disheveled and slightly emaciated form through Voldemort's eyes. Harry had only seen the Senior Malfoy in quality robes and carefully groomed, but it was clear that even a few months with what was left of the Dementors was enough to disarm his confidence and humble him. He could feel the fear the man had for his chosen master as he had come to rescue the Death Eaters. The gratitude to be released from his prison but his dread of returning to further service and wondered how the man could let his son follow in his footsteps when it was clear that he regretted them. The Malfoys were a rich and powerful family and now he was reduced to bowing and scraping for approval from a madman. Harry felt a twinge of pity for him and then annoyance with himself for feeling anything for a man that had chosen to devote his life to ruining others simply for more power. If the man regretted signing over his life that was the least he deserved for all of the pain that he had caused others.

Harry was shaken from his thoughts when he saw that he was in for an unpleasant surprise. The breakout of Azkaban had occurred in the early hours of the morning, too early to make the morning edition of the paper. Instead, Harry discovered that the Ministry had meant it when they had said that they could make things nasty. Blazed across the Headlines were the words:

 **Ministry Takes Action: Child Welfare Among Minister's Top Priorities**

 _ **Exclusive by: Thornton Dravestone**_

 _The Ministry of Magic confirmed yesterday that it has been making sweeping changes to several formerly ineffective departments. While muggle liaison offices and International Relations are among some of the chief concerns among members of the Wizengotmot, the Minister was personally involved in ensuring that proper resources were given to the Department of Wizarding Child Protective Services. The increase in funds came shortly after an investigation by the_ _ **Daily Prophet**_ _revealed concerns regarding the fitness of Harry Potter's- Boy-Who-Lived and purported Chosen One- muggle relations as guardians._

 _Official reports paint a bleak picture for the boy hero that has shown courage under the most daunting of challenges. While the entirety of the report is classified at this time, several facts from the case have been confirmed. Among the many offenses committed against Harry Potter, some of the most notable include: imprisonment in a small cupboard beneath the stairs that served as the boy's primary living space for several years, intensive and age-inappropriate chores resembling slave labor, severe malnutrition bordering on near starvation, and constant beatings that have left him with several broken bones and severe scarring as evidenced by medical reports from St. Mungo's where Potter was recently admitted._

 _Rumors from Hogwarts state that Ministry Officials tried to take Potter into protective custody but he has so far refused, stating that he wishes to remain with relatives._

" _It's not terribly surprisingly," Healer Donnely, Healer of the Pediatric Care portion in the Janus Thickley Ward who specializes in abuse cases, commented when asked his professional opinion. "Many victims of systemic, long term abuse often defend their abusers. They internalize guilt and feel that they deserve to be treated badly. Victims like Potter experience a type of Stockholm Syndrome in which they sympathize with those abusing them to the point where they cannot imagine leaving. While understandable it is also a dangerous mentality to allow to continue. Removing the victim from that situation is the only way in which they are able to heal."_

 _While some may have expressed concerns about how physical and emotional abuse may impact Potter's ability to stand up against You-Know-Who, Healers are optimistic. "Potter has shown grace under pressure in the past. It's very likely that he has more fear for his childhood tormentor and abuser than a mortal enemy that he meets on the battlefield. It doesn't help that the abuser is muggle. Being underage, Potter is not allowed to defend himself with magic, which only lends to feelings of helplessness. Re-entering the magical world would have been a tremendous boom to his self-worth, confidence and overall feeling of safety. However, by returning to the muggle environment in his uncle's home, it would trigger a return to that previous state of terror he had held as a child."_

 _The Ministry has pledged to continue its investigation to its conclusion and will ensure that Potter receives every resource available to overcome his ordeal._

Harry's expression darkened as he read the article. _Many victims of systemic, long term abuse often defend their abusers. They internalize guilt and feel that they deserve to be treated badly._

Harry had no wish to defend the Dursleys. He had known long before coming to Hogwarts that how the Dursleys treated him was wrong. He didn't feel guilty for having magic, or doing better than Dudley in school, or living under their precious roof. Harry survived the Dursleys because there had been no other choice- and now the choice was stay and be his own man or turn to the Ministry that wanted to use him for help. Harry had made his choice a long time ago.

The murmurs and whispers around the Great Hall were not subtle and Hermione looked rather desperate to question him but was restraining herself given that every ear in their immediate area was poised to listen to what they had to say.

Harry snatched up his dry toast and muttered to his friends that they should get going. They had potions- or rather he and Hermione had potions and Ron had a free period. It was the first time that Harry had had a class at Hogwarts without Ron and he wasn't particularly looking forward to it- especially given the timing.

"You alright mate?" Ron asked, gamely walking with them even though he didn't have to attend the class.

"Can't say I'm surprised. This Dravestone bloke's good, isn't? Managed to suck up the Ministry, give a compliment to his own paper, make me a poor abused orphan and yet still somehow managed to maintain that I'm the 'Chosen One' all in one article. He could give Rita a run for her money."

"He also has a reputation for speaking the truth," Hermione said, her tone icy and uncompromising. "Harry we need to talk about this."

"No, we really don't." Harry bit out harshly. He was a bit surprised by his own anger. He had never felt the need to hide from Ron or Hermione but the accusation bordering on pity in her tone set him on the defensive. He wouldn't stand around and let her suggest that he was some sort of helpless victim.

Ron looked between them but clearly didn't know what to say. After a moment he shrugged at them both and left for the Common Room. Like Defense, all of the Sixth Years were in one NEWT class, unlike Defense it was far from crowded. He and Hermione were the only Gryffindors that had achieved the required Outstanding. Hannah Abott, Ernie MacMillian and Wayne Hopkins from Hufflepuff. Most the Ravenclaws had done it and all but Crabbe and Goyle from Slytherin had managed as well, though there were rumors that Snape had secret study sessions with his Slytherins in which he told them which potions were most likely to appear on the exam.

Harry hurried to find a seat in the back. Normally he would not have liked to have everyone be able to turn around and look him but there was one advantage to having Snape be as unreasonably strict as he was- no one was ever foolish enough to blatantly not pay attention. Which also meant that luckily, there was never any discussion in Snape's class. Harry half expected Snape to bring up the article- as he had done with others in the past- but the man said nothing. Perhaps there were lines that even Snape was not willing to cross. Harry's mind flashed back to that image he had seen in Snape's memories of his own parents and thought perhaps Snape might have even understood a bit.

No, there was no time for gossip in Snape's class. Instead he assigned them the hardest potion that they had ever made- The Draught of Living Death. It was a potion that Harry had read about in detail over the summer. Both his mother and HBP had written about it extensively. His mother writing about the uses and combinations that could be made with the potion and its more volatile ingredients, HBP rewriting almost every instruction on the page. Harry had recopied the ideas into his own version of the book during his stay in the hospital when he had been searching for something to do and he had realized that he couldn't very well use another person's book in Snape's class- the man would see the foreign handwriting and bust him for cheating. Harry didn't consider it cheating to have found better instructions- or at least he was almost certain that they were better. He had never brewed anything written by HBP but Harry couldn't help but think that if his mother had left him the textbook, she must have wanted him to use it.

At the end of the period Harry's faith in the mysterious writer was proven to be valid, his potion was the perfect shade of pale lilac, while even Hermione's had not quite reached the right shade and was much darker.

"Time is up, leave a vial of your potion on my desk."

Snape looked at his potion with narrow eyes. "Waited until NEWT level to even attempt a decent potion? I should dock you points and assign you detention for wasting my time for five years," Snape sniped at him.

Harry glared at him, was it so hard for Snape to just say 'good job'. It was clearly the best potion that Harry had ever made, most teachers would have commended his effort, with Snape there was nothing but accusation and hostility.

"I was motivated to learn over the summer," Harry settled for saying.

"Maybe his relatives let him out of the cupboard if he studies," Pansy muttered, not bothering to be quiet. There were a few snickers from the Slytherins but shocked gasps from the rest of the room. Hermione glared at the pug-faced Parkinson.

Harry stiffened but knew that what he said next would determine how the Slytherins would treat him in the coming weeks. He could deny it all, but wasn't that what they were expecting? Him to be defensive and do exactly what those quack Healers had said that he would do.

"Actually nothing pisses my uncle off more than the idea of me studying magic. Calls it an abomination. Good thing I wasn't with them for most of the summer then, isn't it?"

Harry had caught on to the fact that when discussing his 'severe scarring' and 'broken bones', which were the only truly blatant fabrications of the article even if ' _severe_ malnutrition' was an exaggeration, as was slave labor for the most part (though there were times...) the article had delicately avoided saying why he had been in St. Mungo's, most likely leading many to the assumption it had been because of his uncle.

The Slytherins didn't know what to say to his casual remark and even Malfoy was left blinking in surprise. Actually, Malfoy had been surprisingly quiet all morning. "So it's all true then?" Pansy challenged.

Harry lifted an eyebrow, "I think Malfoy pointed out First Year that the Dursleys and I don't get along. And Ernie told the _Prophet_ that himself over the summer, didn't you Ernie?"

The boy flushed and stuttered that he hadn't meant for it sound like it had in the article but Harry turned back to Parkinson. "I really appreciate the concern and all but just because we don't get along doesn't mean that everything in that rag is true. The _Prophet_ will print anything if the right person asks them to. But then you knew that when you were quoted over the summer too, didn't you Parkinson? After all Ernie's parents work with the press all the time because his father's in the Wizengamot so I wasn't surprised that he happened to be interviewed but why were they talking to _you_?" Harry was taking a stab in the dark, he had brought up Ernie's quote in the article to show that his relationship with the Dursleys was old news but he had seen something spark in her eyes, something quite like panic when he mentioned interviews with the press and he had pounced on it.

Pansy flushed slightly, her eyes narrowing with anger, "that's not your concern Potter, don't you think you have enough problems?"

"Not really, didn't you read the article? Everything is just fine," Harry said calmly. He made a point of walking calmly back to the desks before seeing someone that might be able to deflect at least a bit of attention from himself. "Daphne, when would you like to get together for our project?"

Daphne raised a curious eyebrow at him, her lips curling at the fact that he had commandeered the attention of the class and then placed it on her. "Tonight. Meet me in front of the library at 8. Don't be late."

Harry nodded, waiting for Hermione to place her own vial on the table so that they could leave.

Harry waited for her to comment on what had just happened but as it turned out Hermione had larger concerns for the moment. "How did you get your potion to be such a light color?" Hermione demanded. "I added everything in at the right time, I'm sure of it."

"I think it was when I used the silver knife to crush the sopophorous beans instead of slicing. It releases the juice better so I got a better yield."

"But the book _said_ to slice."

Harry looked around briefly and was glad to see they were alone. "I didn't get a chance to talk to you about it yet but when I went to Sirius' will reading he gave me a box of things from my parents. It had some of their old textbooks. My mum was apparently brilliant at potions and she left me this book that someone had written all over. I mean they like re-wrote almost every instruction to most of the potions and I tried that one instead. It worked," Harry said with a smile.

Hermione's eyes narrowed and she glared at him. Harry threw his hands up, "I'm sorry we had so much going on I didn't get a chance to tell you but I'll let you use the book as well. My mum left her own book too and she wrote a bunch of her own notes if you want to read them."

Hermione's glare did not soften but Harry saw her practically bite back her original statement before leading off with, "I don't want to offend you when it comes to your mum Harry but I can't believe that you would use notes that someone else made! It's cheating!"

"How is it cheating? You're following instructions from a book. I'm following instructions from a book. Its Snape's fault if after 20 years of being a Potions' Master he hasn't figured out what this HBP did when he was a Sixth Year student."

"HBP?" Hermione asked skeptically.

"That's the only name I could find in the book. It says "This Book is the Property of HBP- I wish I knew what it stood for, maybe I could have looked him up."

"First of all, why do you assume it's a _him_? Why couldn't it be a woman that rewrote all the instructions? Are women not smart enough?"

Harry blinked, "the handwriting. And some of the notes. I can tell."

"Oh you can just tell, can you? Well if it was a friend of your mum's its more likely that it was a girl, don't you think?"

"First of all the book is a lot older than my mum's book so my guess is she found it when was a student learned from it herself and gave it to me for the same reason. And as for it being more likely that a girl has girlfriends, are _you_ seriously going to tell me that?"

Hermione fumed but continued, "but it _is_ cheating! Whoever wrote that book didn't know everything they were doing, what if they had made a mistake and the cauldron exploded? Do you know how dangerous it is to experiment with potions at this level Harry? You shouldn't use that book because nothing in it has been Ministry approved but even if he is right about some of them- you didn't come up with these so-called improvements and if you're taking credit for the work someone else did then that is the definition of cheating."

Harry didn't quite have a rebuttal for this but he didn't care. The book was brilliant and reading it over the summer was the first time Harry had ever truly enjoyed Potions before. "Sorry Hermione, but HPB is a better teacher than Snape has ever been, or could ever be. I'm not going to stop using that book. Not when I'm finally learning something."

HPHPHPHP

The rest of the day went smoother than Harry expected it to if he were being honest. He received the expected stares and the whispers behind his back were far from subtle, but after several years of receiving such attention it was nothing that Harry couldn't handle. Almost everyone had lacked the nerve to confront him about the article directly, though a few Hufflepuffs in Herbology had gone out of their way to be nicer to him than usual, making sure that he had best pick of the plants for their lesson. Hermione had tried once again to talk to him about Dravenstone's allegation but Harry was adamant that it was not something that he wanted to talk about. She huffed impatiently and shot him a look of naked concern but didn't press any further, for which Harry was grateful.

He ate his dinner quickly, determined to see Dumbledore before his meeting with Greengrass. The Headmaster had returned for dinner looking particularly worn and Harry and considered waiting another day before laying another problem at the man's feet but both Ron and Hermione tried to convince him that this was too important for him to put off any longer. He was just about to give in and go when the decision was made for him- he received a note asking to come to the Headmaster's office right away.

Harry shared a surprised look with Ron and Hermione who both appeared as dumbfounded as he felt. "Told you he's mad Harry, he just...knows," Ron whispered. Both Ron and Hermione had to meet with their own partners for their projects so after saying goodbye Harry set off.

He took a deep breath on his way towards the Headmaster's office, preparing to himself what he should say. His last encounter with the man had not been particularly pleasant, with Dumbledore ordering him to stay with Snape against his own wishes. While staying with the Potion's Master had ultimately been no more unpleasant than staying with his relatives, with the added bonus of neighbors that they didn't look at him as though he were a criminal, he still hated having his life being controlled by a man that took so little of his own choices into consideration. Harry was 16 years old and had proven again and again that he could be trusted when it counted but Dumbledore still refused to treat him like an adult.

He knocked on the Headmaster's office, feeling a flash of shame as he recalled the last time he had been in that office- right after Sirius' death. If Harry were to be completely honest- he did not regret his breakdown. Perhaps that was a terrible way to feel about smashing up the man's office but after all that Dumbledore had put him through, after all that he had suffered, Harry quite honestly could not work up the guilt to feel sorry for a few broken instruments. He was, however, grateful that the Headmaster had allowed him the release that he had needed. It had been a cathartic experience- smashing and yelling his way through the office- and after a year of impotent rage, the tantrum had been what he had needed to feel truly settled. He wasn't proud of his behavior but he also felt no need to apologize for it.

"Come in Harry," Dumbledore called, his voice a bit weary but still inviting. "Thank you for coming so promptly."

"No problem sir," Harry said before realizing that they were not alone. Snape was also present along with a group of men in dark cloaks and a woman with dark, ebony hair. Harry was trying to place why a few of them looked familiar when he heard a childish shout. "Harry!"

"Kaylee," Harry answered with a smile, slightly surprised when the little girl ran towards him, enveloping him in a hug. "Glad to see you were alright. I was worried about you."

"We owe you a great debt Mr. Potter," a tall man with a slightly lined face said in measured tones. Despite his perfect pronunciation he had a slight accent and Harry could tell that English was not the man's first language, though it was impossible to tell how many decades or even centuries the vampire had last been in his native land. He reached out his hand and Harry grasped it firmly.

"I didn't do anything anyone else wouldn't have done. And..." much as he hated to admit it, "Draco Malfoy helped Kaylee just as much as I did."

Here the man rose his brow slightly, eyeing him appraisingly, "Kaylee told us of everything that occurred. She told us that you saved her from the wizard. That the Malfoy Heir at first tried to leave her behind because she is a vampire. You defended her. Made him take a solemn vow to protect her even as you lay dying of poison. Such acts are not forgotten by our people."

Harry nodded flushing, unsure of what he should say. He glanced uncertainly at Dumbledore but the Headmaster only smiled at him warmly, pride in his eyes but no sign of what he should do. "Mr. Von Drake...I was happy to help your daughter."

"We take our debts quite seriously and we have come to repay you. I know Wizards have the concept of a Life Debt but for the semi-immortal our rules are more... inflexible. We have come to hear your request."

Harry blinked, "my...request."

"It's tradition, Potter," Snape answered silkily. "You saved a vampire- a child one at that. The clan has decided that you are entitled to an offering. Any request that you make that is within their reasonable limits to give you must be granted."

Harry let out a slow breath, he had not been expecting this. That night in the light of the full moon as the wolves were howling and the Dementors were giving off their death rattles the last thing he had ever thought about when he had stopped to help a small terrified girl was that an entire clan of people would be indebted to him.

He glanced at the other men in the room, all finely dressed. All stiff and foreboding as they looked back at him, waiting to hear the request that he would level at them. He wondered who their leader was, with vampires it was impossible to truly tell who was the oldest or had the most experience.

"You would fulfill any request that I want?"

"Anything within reason."

"I want your clan to make an oath never to join Lord Voldemort." He said quickly and clearly and knew immediately that he was pleased with his own idea.

There was a pause before several eyes turned towards a man in the back. At first glance he was rather unremarkable. He appeared, by human standards, to be about middle age. Salt and pepper hair, laugh lines around his blue eyes, fairly attractive in a way that even other men recognized but there was a certainly quality of power about him that was hard to define and Harry knew that he had found the leader.

"You do not wish to make us fight for your side _against_ the Dark One" he asked slowly.

Harry didn't look at Dumbledore, unsure if the man would be disappointed in Harry for what he was about to say, but that didn't change how he felt. "I'm not going to force anyone to fight in a war that they want no part in. You have families...children. If you don't want to fight, that should be your choice. But if I can stop you from fighting against me, I'll do it."

The salt-and-pepper man smiled, "Forgive my rudeness, I never even properly introduced myself. My name is Raymond Kováč, current Patriarch of the clan. For now at least, but these things are fleeting in the grand scheme of things. Mr. Potter if I might be so bold...what do you know of vampire culture?"

"Er...I'm sorry honestly not that much. I've read about vampires in our defense classes but I have a feeling it was a bit...uninformative."

Von Drake smiled this time humor lighting his eyes for the first time, "When I had heard that a wizard stopped to protect a child vampire I was surprised but since that day I have asked about you Mr. Potter. I can only assume that you must know that people have quite a lot to say."

Harry nodded slowly, biting back a comment about how people should be careful about what they hear.

"It is nice to see a reality that surpasses the legend. It's too rare these things happen," Raymond said with a congenial nod.

"We grant your request. With gratitude. Few wizards exercise your restraint Mr. Potter. However, since you have shown us good faith I feel I must return the favor and warn you my clan is not as united as it once was. I can promise you that everyone in this room and everyone else that respects my authority as Patriarch, will promise neutrality, but our vow cannot hold those that betray our clan. We are not held to the same magical oaths that wizards are with their Unbreakable Vows. We are held by honor alone to our clan, once a member breaks from the clan all of their sworn alliances or enemies are void to them, for good or ill. As I cannot personally guarantee you complete neutrality of all of Crescent's Nest I feel it only honorable to allow you the opportunity to amend your request if you so desire."

Harry almost refused before catching himself. He needed to be smart. He needed to think things through for once. "I would like one amendment...if you learn of anyone planning on siding with Voldemort and can inform me without bringing harm to yourself or anyone else in your clan that is loyal to you, I wis- request that you tell me."

There were a few glances around the room as though the adult vampires were communicating silently before nodding to one another. Raymond gave a stiff and formal bow, "Mr. Potter it is with great honor and privilege that the Kováč Clan pledges its loyalty and fealty to the Potter name and will work alongside you in all of your endeavors."

Harry's eyes widened and he stuttered... "er...that...I didn't...what just happened?"

Raymond smiled his rather flabbergasted expression. "A war such as this cannot spare it's time for cowards that refuse to advance their own causes. But there are always more than two sides to a conflict. We will not side with the Dark One, he is petty and cruel and would see us destroyed the moment we were no longer of use to him. We will not side with the Ministry which has discriminated against us and turned a blind eye to its own injustices. But we will ally ourselves with a wizard and a warrior that is more concerned with life than with death."

Harry felt as though his chest was unusually tight. He suddenly felt that he had accepted much more responsibility than he had originally intended. _The Kováč Clan pledges its loyalty and fealty to the Potter name and will work alongside you in all of your endeavors._

"Thank you Mr. Kovac," Harry stumbled on the pronunciation of the foreign name and flushed, feeling embarrassed but the man only smiled, "I would ask that you call me Raymond provided you allow me the same curtesy of a first name basis."

"Thank you Raymond, I would like it if you call me Harry. Usually I only get called Mr. Potter if I'm in trouble," Harry admitted, earning a chuckle from Dumbledore. "Raymond...I'm not sure what you expect me to do..."

"As I said, we will aid you in all endeavors if it is in our power to do so. Though I should be clear, though I said the Potter name, our pledge is to you and you alone. It will not be passed on to future generations."

Harry blinked and then flushed slightly at the thought of having children. For the past several months now his thoughts had been dominated by the prophecy, of the war, and he had had precious little time to consider what life would be life if he actually won. "I understand sir, I want to promise you that I will never ask you or your clan to do anything that you feel you can't agree with."

"A wise leader you are becoming young Harry. Until we are needed then. Severus, thank you again for your help in coming to the school if you could escort us back to the village? I owe you a drink, you were right my old friend. Harry Potter is not what one would expect at all," he said with a wink in Harry's direction. Kaylee hugged him again, brightly telling him that she hoped to see him again while the other vampires nodded politely, a few pausing to shake his hand, before leaving the office. Harry felt a bit stunned.

"A generous request you made Harry. Raymond was right, few wizards exercise proper restraint when they hear they are granted a request by a clan. It's the reason why the tradition has become rare- too many people took advance of the vampires' gratitude and their greed only created feelings of resentment."

Harry only nodded. He knew first-hand what it felt like to be used and manipulated by higher forces. People had been doing it to him for years and he refused to become just like them.

"Sir...before I go I was wondering if I could talk to you about something else. I was actually going to come and find you before I received your note."

Dumbledore looked up with interest and Harry knew that although the professor was as calm as always he was at the least interested and at worst worried about something that would bring Harry willingly to his office after both had kept their distance the year before.

"Sir, I know about the breakout at Azkaban," Harry began.

Dumbledore nodded but his brow drew together slightly. "Your visions have not stopped?" he asked curiously.

Harry shook his head, "my scar isn't hurting all the time like it did last year but I've still been getting visions over the summer." He went on to explain first his theory and practice of using emotion to block out Voldemort but that it only seemed to work if Harry was consciously in control. Dumbledore admitted that he had thought that after the events in the Department of Mysteries- when Harry had hurt Voldemort when the man had tried to possess him- he had believed that Voldemort would try employing Occulumency against Harry to avoid such an experience again. The fact that Harry's scar did not hurt consistently and that the visions only seemed to include the most brutal of feelings led Dumbledore to conclude his theory was correct, Voldemort was employing Occulumency but at times was unsuccessful.

In a strange way this was almost comforting. Voldemort had been practicing Occulumency for longer than Harry had been alive and was apparently one of the best in the world. If he couldn't be successful all the time against the connection it would have been almost impossible for Harry to have been, no matter how much he had practiced. However, the fact that the connection was as strong as it seemed to be was more than a little worrying.

Harry then described the strange developments of the night before. The way he could feel the emotions of everyone in the room. Dumbledore pulled at his long bread thoughtfully, his eyes for once focused and thoughtful rather than twinkling.

"I'm glad that you trusted me enough to share this information. I know that I did not show you the same curtesy last year and for that I very much apologize. I will be honest with you when I say that I do not know for sure what this latest development means. As I've said in the past, and as I know you are aware, the connection you share with Lord Voldemort is a unique one. Much of what I hope to tell you this year is more conjecture than fact. However, I do believe in this case that you were right in assuming that the changes you experienced originated with you rather than Voldemort. You say he was surprised to feel their emotions as well?"

Harry nodded, "he was surprised but he just assumed that he was becoming even more powerful or something."

Dumbledore nodded, "and as Voldemort has long since reached his magical majority and height of power, I think we can assume that thought is merely more hubris on his part. You on the other hand..." Dumbledore examined Harry thoughtful, his blue eyes sizing him up carefully, "you have amazing potential Harry. I'm not sure if anyone has truly taken the time to credit you with some of the remarkable things you have accomplished but I know of no other wizard that was able to not only conjure a true corporeal Patronus but also use it to drive off a horde of Dementors at the age of 13 and throw off a full powered Imperious Curse by the age of 14."

"So...you think this is just an ability that I have now? I can sense people's emotions in visions?" Harry asked uncertain. Suddenly a worse thought occurred to him, "do you think it will start happening while I'm awake?"

Dumbledore considered his answer, "I cannot be sure. What you describe sounds most like an empathetic ability which is a rare talent but one that people are born with. Much like being a metamorphamagus or a parseltongue. However, while you are a person that has certainly been led by emotions in the past I do not believe that you were ever capable of depicting them before, have you?"

Harry tried to think back to his childhood, before he knew that all the strange things that he did was actually magic, but try as he might he could not remember ever sensing someone's direct emotions before. He could see if a person was upset or angry- but no more than by reading their body language and face. Personally after the experience of the other night he hoped to never feel such a thing again. Being an empath must be terrible, constantly subjected to the fears and desires of those around you. "No sir, I don't think so."

"The only explanation I can come up with is that this is a side effect of the _phantasies interius._ One of the reasons the poison has been known to cause madness is because it often increases a person's senses to the point where they cannot longer differentiate stimuli. This thankfully did not occur with you, but if you experienced this phenomena I can only assume that your senses were impacted in some way."

"But I went to Madame Pomfrey last week and she told me the poison was completely out of my system," Harry argued, his voice slightly higher than usual in his panic.

Dumbledore nodded, "and Madame Pomfrey would know best, I would never call her expertise into question, but there can be lingering side effects even after such a poison is completely eradicated from the system."

Harry inwardly marveled at the fact that there were truly few branches of magic that Dumbledore was ignorant of.

"So... what does that mean for me? Is this always going to happen when I have a vision from Voldemort?" Harry asked worriedly. He could not describe the disconcerting feeling of such alien emotions washing over him, driving him over the edge so that he felt out of control.

"I honestly could not say Harry. I would venture to guess that such a side effect would not last indefinitely unless the venom from the plant did something to alter the very structure of your mind. I believe..." Dumbledore looked thoughtful for a moment, "muggles would refer to it best as 'brain chemistry' if that makes it clear to you."

It did not. In fact 'altering brain chemistry' sounded frankly horrifying to Harry but he forced himself to remember that nothing else had appeared out of the ordinary. His visions had always been horrible so if the worst side effect of a usually deadly or madness inducing poison was to make them slightly more horrible perhaps he should just feel lucky it wasn't worse.

"So you think it's probably temporary?" Harry confirmed.

"In most cases side effects caused by potion or venom are not permanent Harry but I would advise you to be cautious to see if this experience either continues or seems to grow. If you feel yourself picking up the emotions of your classmates or professors please come and see me again for I would more concerned if it grew over time."

Harry nodded nervously. "Yes sir, I'll do that."

"Very good Harry. Also if you remember I mentioned to you over the summer that I would like to take a firmer role in your education this year. There are valuable things that I need to discuss with you and hope you are still amenable to the idea of meeting with me."

Harry smiled, genuinely pleased with the idea of meeting with the Headmaster to finally prepare for the war. He spoke with the Headmaster for only a few more minutes before it was time to leave and head to the library for his meeting with Daphne.

HPHPHP

Harry was ten minutes early for his meeting with Greengrass, and not looking forward to the meeting in the least. He knew very little about the quiet daughter of Martell Greengrass, international businessman and notoriously neutral when it came to the Wizarding Wars. She was beautiful, that much was obvious, with dark rich hair and a tan, smooth complexion that was free of any adolescent blemish. But she had also always seemed stuck up and rather arrogant. Though perhaps that had been Harry's impression of all Slytherins. From his first night at Hogwarts he had considered them an unpleasant lot and despite whatever warnings that the Sorting Hat or Hermione might give, nothing in his five years at Hogwarts had ever made him question this initial assessment.

Daphne arrived promptly at seven o'clock, her clear blue eyes narrowed with dislike. "Nice to see that with all of your gallivanting around the castle you at least know where the library is. I wasn't sure to be honest."

"Oh I had Hermione give me directions," Harry answered her, smiling a little bit at the quip. Daphne's expression didn't move but she turned and walked quickly into the library, never once failing to assume that he would follow her. She looked for a moment as though she was about to continue past the common work tables but instead turned abruptly and took a seat at an empty table. For a moment it looked as though a Fourth Year Ravenclaw was about to take the opposite end of the table but one fierce glare from the Slytherin and the girl lost her nerve.

"I've prepared a list of topics that we could discuss," Daphne started without preamble, catching Harry off guard before he had even sat down.

"Er...wow that's excellent, I- I haven't started anything yet, I thought we were going to talk about it first."

Daphne scowled at him for a minute, seemingly weighing her words. It seemed to Harry that she was trying to decide just how nasty she wanted to be with him, she apparently decided to go with 'moderately' for her tone was rather neutral as she said, "the first project is Potions. I've had classes with you for five years Potter and I know that you're terrible at the subject. You apparently got lucky- first getting into NEWT level and then today with the Drought of Living Death- but I am not willing to risk my grade on that. I think we can both agree that I should be the point person on this one. When we have a project on... whatever it is that you do when you're not flying around on your broomstick, then you can take the lead."

Harry felt a flash of annoyance at her arrogance and presumption. It was true that he was not the strongest Potion's student, something he more than slightly attributed to having a teacher that hated him, but he had achieved an Outstanding on his OWLs. After months of studying, of studying when his scar was burning and Voldemort was using him an emotional yo-yo, he had had done it and he had done it all on his own. He might know precious little about Pureblood families and their customs but he was more than aware that families like the Greengrasses of the world spent plenty of galleons on tutors and other help for their children over the summer months. Daphne had more than likely walked into Hogwarts knowing more magic than Harry had managed to learn all of First Year.

He let out a slow breath, he and Daphne needed to work together for the entire year, he needed to make this work. Besides, when it came to conflict, he had a worse reputation than the quiet, accommodating Slytherin. If they were the only team to fail to work together, he had a sneaking suspicion who would be blamed.

"Alright, fair enough. You take point on this one and maybe I'll take the next," he said, and knew immediately that he had surprised her. She had expected a fight. The list was rather impressive and Harry could admit to himself that he would not have come up with half of these topics.

"Hey Harry!" Colin and Dennis Creevey waved enthusiastically. "Good summer?"

"Hi Colin. Dennis. I did thanks, how about you?"

The brothers were quick to give him a detailed report that Harry had to cut off, stating that he needed to work with his partner. However it was only a few minutes later that they were then greeted by Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott, both of whom were curious as to whether Harry had any intentions of starting an official Defense club this year. Jack Sloper came back to ask about Quidditch try outs. Ginny and Luna both paused to say hello, both of them subtly asking if he was alright after the appearance of the article that morning. For the first time Harry could give them an honest reassurance, unlike so many others during the day neither Ginny nor Luna seemed to pry for details, but instead were only genuinely concerned about how he might be feeling.

By the time that a group of Seventh Year Ravenclaws had come by for seemingly no reason at all, Daphne had had enough. "Come with me," she nearly snarled, taking his arm and nearly dragging him away from the front work tables and towards the back of the room. She walked a well-practiced route to a small alcove that was stationed between a section on the history of Sentient Being Legal Rights and Advanced Alchemy.

"I knew that working with the 'Chosen One' was going to come with its complications but Merlin Potter, would you like to set up a booth for autographs out there? How big is your fan club these days?"

Harry's face reddened at the idea of signing autographs. "It's the start of school Daphne, most people spend that time catching up with people. Do you really find it so strange that people might want to talk to each other?"

Daphne raised her eyebrows, "don't play the false modest Potter, it doesn't suit you. Those people weren't just 'catching up with old friends', they were paying homage. You're the most sought after commodity in the Wizarding World and people want a taste. And they want others to know that they have had it."

Harry frowned at the way she compared him to some kind of morsel of food waiting to be devoured. "What about basilisk venom?" He asked instead, desperate to change the subject and get the attention off of himself and his sudden return to popularity. Last year he could not go anywhere without fearful whispers and unhidden contempt. This year he was the 'Chosen One'- perhaps Lockhart was right after all. 'Fame is a fickle friend'. The idea that he had come to agree with anything that that idiot said was disheartening but as long as he didn't start buying into 'celebrity is as celebrity does' perhaps it was alright to acknowledge that even morons were known to sprout occasional- if accidental- wisdom.

"Sorry? What about basilisk venom?"

"It's a poison that has no cure except for one thing, phoenix tears." Daphne looked at him with slight surprise for coming up with this rare example. "Doesn't matter, the idea is to experiment, we can't get a hold of the venom or the tears. We should use my idea of Unicorn blood and asphodel."

While Harry had access to quite a large supply of basilisk venom, he was not sure that Fawkes would contribute the necessary tears. He also had no idea what kinds of experiments they could even do with the venom so he agreed to her plan.

An hour later, Harry trudged back to the Common Room only to find that Hermione was not there. Ron was just finishing off a game of chess against three Fourth Years that even combined were not able to beat him. "Hang on Harry- three moves to checkmate."

"What?" one of the boys yelped, taken aback. A few minutes later Ron joined him. "I need to branch out to other Houses mate, this has become pathetic."

Harry smirked at him. It was actually true. Ron had been among the best players in all of Gryffindor as a First Year, undisputed best by Second and had been awaiting solid competition ever since. Harry actually wondered if Ron hadn't actually gotten worse from lack of challenge. "Did you meet up with Ernie?"

"Yeah, I think working with Ernie is gonna be great. We really think on the same page. Did you know that his uncle can get Chudley Cannon's tickets?"

Harry laughed, "did you even work on the project?"

Ron looked at him and shrugged, "all we did today was pick a topic; that took about five minutes. Merlin though," he added glancing at the clock, there was only two minutes to curfew. "Boot and Hermione together? We might never pry her out of the library again."

Harry laughed as Hermione scuttled in through the portrait hole, heavy bookbag over her shoulder and hair in disarray. Nevertheless Hermione looked positively exhilarated, she was the only person in the world that made a research project seem more entertaining than a Quidditch final. Despite her obvious homework high, she was still, more interested in how his night had gone.

"How did your meeting with Dumbledore go Harry? Is he worried about- it?" she asked while they were in the Common Room.

Harry shook his head and quietly explained what Dumbledore had said about the latest developments on his scar. "So he thinks it might be temporary?"

"He seems to think so, but he did sound interested that it would affect not only me but Voldemort as well. But that's not even the weirdest part..." he explained about Raymond and the Kováč Clan pledging to be his 'allies'.

"Merlin Harry just one time I would love to come back here and tell you a story about some clan of dark creatures that pledged their lives to defend me but no. All I can tell you is that Ernie is thinking about getting new robes for Hogsmeade and I'm pretty sure I'm the first one he told. Jealous now?" Ron asked rolling his eyes.

Harry smirked while Hermione berated Ron for assuming that all vampires were dark creatures and the two started bickering. Harry sighed- they had almost made it a whole day.

HPHPHP

The news of Azkaban broke the next morning, but Harry was surprised to see that most people did not seem to react as much he had expected. The previous year when the Death Eaters had escaped, people had been shocked and nervous. The nervousness was still present but most had seemed to feel that this was not unexpected. Harry glanced over at the Slytherins to see quite a few wide grins, Malfoy among them. Since returning to school the blond boy had been quieter than usual but the return of his father had put the old bounce back in his step.

A half hour later, Harry walked into the Defense room to find the board covered with two separate lists of names from the class. The first thing that he noticed was the fact that he was not on the same list as Ron or Hermione.

"Please take a seat on the side of the room that has your name on it," Tackley announced and there were more than a few grumbles as groups of friends split and seating arrangements changed.

Harry took a seat next Dean Thomas, who shrugged at him as he glanced at the side of the room where Seamus was sitting with Neville. "We're going to be having a little scrimmage at the end of the month," Tackley announced. "You are now sitting with your new teammates, both teams will be given a statue to hide and defend while at the same time it is your responsibility to plot an attack and steal the other team's statue. Points will be given for stunned players and captured wands but they will also be deducted for sloppy spellwork or your inability to get along with your teammates. Questions? Miss Davis?"

Tracy Davis was a Slytherin that Harry didn't know very well but he did know that she was friends with Daphne and was generally more outspoken about speaking her mind than the mysterious brunette that he was partnered with for the year. Both of them were on his side of the room. "How is that you put all the people that had weeks of training from the Ministry on one team? Other than Bustrode and Abbot who actually managed to fail a voluntary class everyone else has weeks of extra practice. How is that fair?"

Harry blinked in surprise as he realized that Tracy was right, he was on a team of people that had not had the benefit of attending the summer program. In fact to make matters worse with the exception of Draco, the other team was almost exclusively former DA members. He only had Dean, Lavender and Hannah on his side of things, and Hannah was not terribly skilled with offensive spells. He realized with a slight twinge of annoyance that not only had Tackley put him on what she obviously considered to be the inferior team but that he had essentially trained his enemy.

"Astute observation Miss Davis. I admit that the point of this exercise is to stress to you the importance of understanding proper Ministry procedure. The people that attended the program, and completed it successfully, will have an advantage but I trust this to be a learning experience for you all."

"You want us to learn how to fail?" Dean asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow at Harry.

"I want you to learn that the Ministry has very clear workable strategies that will always succeed."

Harry gritted his teeth. Over confidence in Ministry protocols and beliefs were what had caused their world to do nothing for a year as Voldemort grew stronger. The same Aurors that Tackley so proudly trained were dying by the day and she refused to see that by using the same strategies over and over she was only helping the enemy. Well... Harry was by no means opposed to standing up against a Ministry official that was determined not to see reason.

"The first thing that we need to establish is leadership. Do we have any volunteers for a team captain?" Tackley asked addressing her favored team.

Hermione and more surprisingly Neville both raised their hands while the rest remained stubbornly silent. Tackley smiled at them both. "Right then, a challenge. Miss Granger you have one minute to explain why you should be team captain."

Hermione appeared flustered at the request and Harry knew that Hermione hated spur of the moment assignments. She liked to prepare. To research and organize herself. She looked unsure of herself but as she continued to speak she grew in confidence. "Er...well, I have a number of ideas for the team to use. I have studied the Auror Manuel that we will be using and I have...demonstrated by ability in class as well. I believe that I have shown over the years that I am consistently prepared for class assignments and I know that I will do the same for the team as its captain."

"Well said Miss Granger. Mr. Longbottom?"

Unlike Hermione, Neville had had a minute to prepare himself and when he spoke Harry was surprised by how much Neville had grown into himself. He had noticed the increasing confidence but he had not realized before now that Neville wasn't simply looking to defend himself in the war- he was looking to lead the defense.

"Those of you that were in the summer class saw that I can fight. I've been practicing and this summer and I know that given my experience, both in the classroom and out of it, I can give our team the advantage."

"Very well, any other volunteers from this team?" Tackley asked, smiling a bit indulgently in Neville's direction. Ron hadn't been exaggerating when he had said that the professor loved him. There were no other hands and Tackley put the decision to a vote. It was close, but Neville won by a single vote. Harry smiled at Hermione sympathetically. Hermione had many, many good qualities but she hated failure- even perceived failure- and he knew that losing the vote would hurt her. She struggled to be the best in their class but because of her efforts, which were far from subtle, more often than not their classmates constantly felt the need to put her in her place in whatever manner that they could.

"Congratulations Mr. Longbottom, if I might suggest allowing Miss Granger as your second in command, I feel that the two of you will make a formidable team."

Neville turned to Hermione and smiled, his expression full of pride but not arrogance. He was more surprised than anyone that he had won the vote against her but he was not going to taunt her about it.

"I think that would be a great idea. What do you think Hermione?"

Hermione offered a gamely smile, showing poise despite her disappointment. "That would be lovely, thank you."

"Very well," Tackley said turning to the other side of the room, "now that that is settled, what about your team?"

"No need for a vote, we choose Potter," Nott announced right away, much to Harry's surprise. Nott's father was a known Death Eater and the two of teens had never gotten along. He never would have expected the Slytherin boy to nominate him with such emphasis.

Tackley frowned, "If anyone else would like to be captain you can nominate yourselves and there will be a vote."

"Professor, if there is one thing Slytherins appreciate it's a strategy of rallying behind a solid leader and trusting their power to see it through. Leading a pack of faithful followers is Potter's destiny."

"Compare me to Voldemort again and I'll surrender from the start Nott," Harry bit out angrily.

"Don't get your knickers in a twist Potter, think of it as a compliment. With you as leader I still give them 5 to 1 odds on victory, not great but isn't that supposed to be your thing anyway? Beating ridiculous odds and all that?" Nott said with a smile while Daphne, who sat to his left elbowed him hard in the ribs.

"Come on Harry, there's no one else that can do it," Dean said to him quietly, "you must have known that you would be nominated- you're the first person to get an O in Defense in like 10 years."

Harry sighed, "Alright I'll do it."

There was an outbreak of talking among both sides of the room and in the commotion he almost missed the quiet exchange that Malfoy had with the professor, so surprising were the words that he almost convinced himself he must have misheard. "Professor, if your goal was to prove that nothing beats the Ministry... I wouldn't have put Potter on the other team. The git is annoying but he's harder to beat than you realize."

HPHPHP

Harry had arranged for Quidditch try-outs to fall at the end of their first week. He had been aiming for Saturday but the pitch was booked so he settled for Friday evening. He found that he was a bit nervous at his first official run as captain. While he had been on the team for years, he had never before been in charge and the team had never had so many positions that needed to be filled.

He had planned on keeping Katie Bell and Ron but Katie had convinced him to launch full try-outs- mostly as cause to be able to replace the beaters from last year that had performed so erratically. He had been more than a little surprised to find out that almost half of the House had signed up for try outs and he started to feel the stress during dinner.

"Can't believe the team is this popular all of the sudden," Harry muttered, looking over the list once more. He really needed to branch out more, he didn't recognize a good three-fourth of the names.

Hermione gave a snort, "honestly Harry. It's not the team, it's you."

Harry sputtered, "I'm not that popular."

Ron grinned, "Right Harry. And I got the Second Years to help me research combustible properties in potions for my project because they like and want the experience and not because I traded them for your autographs."

"Is that why you had me signing my name on all those papers?" Harry asked outraged.

"Can't believe you didn't even ask, cheers mate. I thought for sure after the fourth one you would thought something was off."

"Ron you can't do that! That's...worse than cheating and...and you're a _prefect_!" Hermione scolded, her face coloring with anger at the idea of Ron using his position against the younger students.

Ron seemed unconcerned with this little moral quandary. He shrugged at Harry as though to say the problem was with Hermione, not what he was doing. Harry shook his head, at once amused by Ron's antics and frustrated that people saw him as a celebrity after spending the whole of last year ostracizing him.

Hermione took a deep breath, and Harry knew that she might have put Ron's latest escapade on the backburner but it was far from forgotten before she turned on her original prey. "Harry, people are fascinated with you, naturally they're going to want to be on your team. Be near you. Which means you need to be careful."

"Way to take all the fun out of it Hermione."

"I'm being serious Ronald. You don't hear how some of the girls talk about you. It's...a bit disturbing really. Don't forget a lot of people can get ahold of love potions around here Harry. The last thing you want is someone taking advantage of you, or worse... this is a big school with a lot of hidden corners which means that if you go off with someone, it's going to be her word against yours about what happened. Just watch your back."

Harry nodded, suddenly feeling a bit hot. He had experience with the Hogwarts gossip mill and also knew from bitter experience that if it ever came down to a girl claiming that Harry had been with her (willingly or not), the teachers would be no help in exonerating him. Hogwarts seemed to have a very traditional 'hands off' approach when it came to student interactions. "Alright, Hermione I'll keep all that in mind. In the meantime, you both want to come down with me?"

"Actually I'm going to take the time to go to the library with Terry," Hermione answered.

"You're not going to watch Ron try out?" Harry asked, shooting a glance over at Ron to see if his friend was disappointed. Harry did not consider himself a relationship expert by any means but even he could see how his two friends had been dancing around one another for months. However, ever since Hermione had started working with Terry Boot, she had been excited all week about her new partner and Harry knew first hand that Ron was prone to jealousy.

"Don't worry about it. It'll be long and boring anyway with all those people trying out," Ron said quickly, glancing at Hermione before looking away again. "Come on Ginny, let's go," Ron said, again too quickly.

Harry wasn't sure if he should say something. It was clear that Ron wasn't saying something but Harry also didn't want to force an issue that was none of his business. "Er... are you sure you don't want to come down for a bit. I was going to do the Keepers last but I could move them up if you want to watch first."

Hermione smiled at him, "Harry you shouldn't be moving around your schedule for us, that would be favoritism. I have to go but I'll be done when you get back and then I can hear all about it."

The pitch was predictably crowded and a few particular hopefuls stepped up early to make sure their faces were prominent.

"Harry Potter, don't think we've properly met but I'm here for Keeper. Cormac McLaggen, Seventh Year and three time Summer League Champion for the youth league." Harry blinked, he didn't even know there was a summer league. He found it hard to believe that Oliver Wood had never mentioned it. Or made it mandatory that they joined.

"On the continent that is. My family has an estate in Luxembourg, Belgium too actually, but the one outside of Koerich is a lot better, of course."

Harry looked up at the massive Seventh Year. McLaggen looked as though he could sit on his broom in the middle of the hoops and block the goals without trying. Still he had a pompous air that reminded him of Malfoy and anyone that introduced themselves by explaining their multiple family estates was someone that Harry knew he had little in common with. "Er...right then...well thanks, but the Keeper try outs aren't for a bit, so why don't you wait in line."

Due to the size of the crowd, Harry decided to split them into groups of 10 for a flying exercise. And quickly discovered that a good portion of the wizarding world did not belong broomsticks. There was a group of First Years that could barely get off the ground. A group of Third Years that had a pile up and then a brawl. The fourth group were actually Hufflepuffs!

It wound up taking much longer than Harry wanted but he finally found his Chasers in Katie Bell, a very impressive Ginny Weasley who also had a bonus point in Harry's mind for pre-emptively threatening to hex anyone else that had shown up from another House, effectively getting rid of some Ravenclaws that had been preparing to fly in the next group, and surprisingly Dean Thomas who put forth a good effort. Harry wasn't thrilled with adding such a senior member to the team as he felt it would be better to get a few younger fliers that would have a few years to grow. But then on the other hand, Harry figured that at least the others would have the opportunity later whereas this was really Dean's last chance. The beaters were not fantastic but Jimmy Peaks and Richie Coote would be a solid enough team once they had some practice. Or at least that was what Harry was banking on.

He had hoped that most of the spectators would clear out by the time the Keepers were up but a good amount had stuck around, oddly enough most of the people that remained were those from other Houses, the Gryffindors- despite showing up in almost record numbers for a trial- seemed rather anxious to leave and Harry found himself almost unconsciously nervous at their hasty departures.

As the five hopefuls for the position of Keeper took up their position one by one. Harry only hoped that Ron's old problem with nerves wouldn't return. Especially when Cormac McLaggen- who had been doing an extremely annoying running commentary on every fault everyone else had for the entire time- saved all five goals.

But then Harry hadn't needed to worry after all, Ron saved all five as well. "Alright," Harry called out, his voice slightly hoarse after yelling for two hours. "Thanks everyone, I really appreciate that you all came out and I want you to know that you all did a great job and it was tough call. I've made my decisions, final team members- returning Caser, Katie Bell, and new Casers: Ginny Weasley, and Demelza Robbins. Beaters are Jimmy Peaks and Richie Coote and returning Keeper Ron Weasley."

"Hang on!" McLaggen called out, face red and muscles tense for a fight. "We both saved five goals. We should have a run-off."

"Ron was on the team last year. A tie goes to the veteran," Harry explained, who not only felt that this was a fair policy but did not want to work with McLaggen all year. The Seventh Year had insinuated- both subtly and bluntly- that he would have made a better choice of captain than Harry and had spent the entire time concerning himself with what every other player was doing. Ginny had finally shut him up for a few minutes when she had cleverly asked him sweetly how it had felt to win the Quidditch Cup the year before with the rest of the team.

"You're only saying that because Weasley is your best mate," McLaggen argued. Ron flushed angrily but didn't say anything.

"I'm saying that because Ron's already tried out for the team and made it and still showed up to prove himself again. He's the best Keeper that we have and he will on the team," Harry answered definitively. "If you don't like it you can take it up with McGonagall but you should know now that all positions are at the discretion of the captain so be my guest."

McLaggen looked for a second as though he was trying to decide whether to hex Harry or simply punch him in the face but Harry stared him down coolly. Harry had faced more than his fair share of Death Eaters and was not about to intimidated by a poncy, rich boy. McLaggen stormed off with a few of his friends and Harry was left with a rather bemused team. "Right well congratulations to you all, I just want to say that from here on out- we're a team. We're gonna to win together but if we lose...we lose together. We support each other, we look for each other and most of all, we're going to have fun this year. Being a part of this team is the one best parts of my time at Hogwarts and I want that same experience for all of you so just keep that in mind on the days when you're fairly miserable because its going to be cold, or raining or you rather be somewhere else- the team is together and together we are going to be unstoppable."

The team smiled at him, the younger students like Jimmy and Richie looking as though the idea of being miserable while playing Quidditch seemed impossible. Harry knew better. Part of training meant that you pushed yourself through all conditions and there would be times when it was miserable. But Harry couldn't drum up the same manic obsession that Oliver or even Angelina had had for the team. Harry had a war to worry about, Quidditch was fun. It was the one thing in his life that had always been uncomplicated and he wanted to give that to his team members. He didn't think most of them realized how difficult things were going to start to become in the coming months.

The rest of the team made their way inside but Ron seemed to want to take his time. He and Harry put away the equipment, Ron seemingly preoccupied- he looked nervous but rather than jittery excitement he seemed to be almost willing himself to move slowly. "You alright mate?" Harry asked.

"What? Er...yeah of course...I think it's about time we back to the Common Room, yeah?"

Harry nodded, still feeling he was missing something. Ron climbed through the Portrait Hole, followed by Harry only to be met with a yell of "Surprise!" On instinct Harry had his wand in hand in an instant, his heart pounding from the sudden attack. Except... There was no attack. The whole of Gryffindor Tower had seemingly come down to celebrate. There were tables lines with food and drinks and the walls were filled with balloons and banners that proudly proclaimed, "Happy Birthday Harry!"

"Wh-what the bloody hell is this about?" Harry breathed unsteadily.

Hermione laughed and embraced him, kissing him on the cheek in greeting. "Ron and I have been planning this for a month! We felt awful that no one could celebrate your birthday." The crowd had largely dispersed after the initial greeting and somewhere someone was cranking a loud Wireless and if Harry wasn't mistaken the Weird Sisters were playing. The room was loud with talking, laughter and some were even dancing.

"My birthday was over a month ago," Harry told her, still in shock over what they had done for him.

Ron laughed and slapped his back, "So what? Better late than never and you're face was amazing! Actually you should be thanking my mum, she wanted to plan something at the Burrow for you because we were planning on having you come and stay but then you couldn't come and Ginny was the one that thought it shouldn't matter that we couldn't do it on your real birthday. Her exact words were 'celebrating a birth should not be confined to a single day'. I swear Fred and George were a bad influence on her."

"We were actually planning on doing it the first night we got back but you were still so sick from the attack-"

"-and we figured that we would have just come back from the feast so we wouldn't want any more food anyway."

"So now it's a birthday/welcome to the Quidditch team party for everyone," Ginny announced popping up from seemingly nowhere with a bottle of Firewhiskey in her hand.

"Ginny!" Hermione yelped, clearly scandalized.

"Oh don't even start Hermione, Seamus and Dean were only able to get 2 bottles for like 30 people, I don't think it's even possible to get drunk on that."

"You're still talking to Dean after what he did to you!" Ron yelled.

"That I am not even addressing because you're being an idiot."

"We're underage and you're a prefect now as well!" Hermione protested

"I'm not," Harry answered with a grin, "pass it over Gin, after you take a drink of course, congrats on the try-out, you were brilliant. Personally I'm glad you didn't go out for Seeker."

Ginny flashed him a dazzling smile, and Harry blinked as he realized fully for the first time that Ginny was a bit more than just Ron's little sister. He coughed and pushed that thought away as she said, "very funny Harry but we both know that you're a better Seeker than me. Luckily I much prefer Chaser anyway. And no- first drink goes to the birthday boy."

"Harry!" Hermione warned.

Harry gave her a bit of a pleading look, "compromise. No one under Fifth Year gets any and if anyone starts to drink too much you get to take it away and deduct all the points from us you want."

"How is it a compromise for me to spend the night policing everyone and playing the bad guy?" she asked angrily.

"Because you love being the bad guy," Ron said thickly as he had found the cauldron cakes from the snack table.

"Think of it this way, the only person getting drunk tonight will probably be you, but it'll be on rules and power," Ginny said, her tone teasing and light and Harry was impressed when even Hermione acknowledged the joke with an annoyed smirk. If Ron had said something like that Hermione would have hexed him.

"Two drinks each, promise," Harry offered.

Hermione rolled her eyes but at this point they had attracted quite a lot of attention and even Hermione's strict code of conduct crumbled under the pressure. Rather than openly agree she walked away leaving Harry to take the first sip of the bottle before making sure that Neville got the second drink, claiming that if everyone was going to insist on celebrating his birthday they would celebrate Neville's as well since they were only a day apart.

The party was an excellent way to end a long week and Harry thoroughly enjoyed himself. When Professor McGonagall finally made an appearance around midnight and put an end to the festivities he was comfortably tired and decided that he really did have the best friends he could ask for.

 **A/N: Thanks again to everyone, I actually have over a hundred people that added this to their favorites which is just amazing. For anyone wondering the Dursleys will be addressed in full in the next chapter and to be clear- the article was an exaggeration.**

 **As for the potions book: obviously HPB is Snape as we all know but I shortened the name because Harry was staying at the Prince estate so I felt that was a bit too obvious. My assumption in the books was always that Snape lacked the money for school books and used the 'fund' that Dumbledore tells Tom Riddle about that gives books and materials for students that can't afford them on their own, which is why his book is so old and tattered (Harry thought it was 50 years old) as well as why the book is in the store cupboard in canon. In my version Snape essentially steals his book and gives it Lily as a sort of peace offering to repair their friendship. It obviously doesn't work but the fact that Lily kept it shows that she still cared about him on some level, or at the very least appreciated his skill.**

 **Also- if you notice in the books Snape usually has the instructions on the board, which leads me to think that he had always been changing the instructions and giving his class better results than outdated textbooks. However in my version of Snape's NEWT level he goes back to the book because he is waiting to see which students are smart enough change the directions on their own as he had done. Snape is not a good teacher but I can see him appreciating talent. Hermione is brilliant at following directions but lacks the initiative to change 'Ministry approved' directions or think outside the box, which is part of the reason he does not respect her despite her textbook answers.**


	19. Concerns

**Chapter 19: Concerns**

The next day was a Saturday and that meant that Harry was finally able to bring his latest idea to fruition. He brought both Ron and Hermione to the Room of Requirement to show him the idea that he had been toying with all summer and sure enough the room provided exactly what he asked for.

"What are these Harry?" Ron asked.

"Dueling Dummies. I want us to be able to practice, real spells. Spells that if we missed while practicing could seriously hurt each other so I thought this was the best way. Hopefully I can adjust the level of their fighting to working with us. What do you think?"

"You're planning on continuing the D.A.?" Hermione asked with interest.

"Er...no," Harry said frowning. "It's not that I don't think it was helpful I just don't really think I'll have a lot of time this year. I mean between Quidditch and I'm going to be having lessons with Dumbledore, I think I would rather have the time to study my own spells."

Ron frowned but Hermione nodded thoughtfully. "Well, I suppose it's not as needed any more, now that we have a proper teacher and all and from what we've seen so far I don't think Tackley would be particularly keen on the idea considering that's said that if we're going to learn Defense properly we need to learn it the right way." Hermione winced at her own words, "Not that you didn't do an amazing job last year Harry, no one would have been able to pass if it weren't for you but there really is only so much you could teach us."

"Doesn't mean that we don't need practice," Ron argued.

Harry nodded feeling a bit guilty as he said, "I agree. _We_ need to practice and as much I thought the D.A. was important last year but quite honestly I think I need the time practice my own skills. If the D.A. wants to practice they all know where the room is as well. They're more than welcome to come," Harry added.

Hermione nodded, "And I heard that Tackley and a few of the other teachers were thinking of bringing back the Dueling Club properly."

Ron made a coughing noise that sounded something along the lines of 'Tackley is Lockhart'. But Hermione pointedly ignored the comment.

The dummies turned out to very good opponents, they could be set any different level and if they became damaged the room instantly replaced them. The three of them spent a very exhausting morning firing off and dodging spells, Harry hadn't managed proper exercise since his hospital stay and was the first to beg off but he was excited by his new discovery.

HPHPHPHPHP

The next week passed quickly. All of the Sixth Years were busy with their partnered assignments and a spark of new competition had crept up between the Houses. Harry soon realized that the teachers had found the perfect way to finally supplant Inter-House Rivalries- replace them with In-House rivalries. There were rumors floating around of a secret prize for the best assignment but Harry was not sure if this was mere gossip. Of course favored to win were Hermione and Terry Boot, who were strong individually and near deadly when combined.

Harry had to admit that it certainly seemed to help that for the most part people seemed to like their partners. This was not terribly surprising when it came to Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw pairings, as they had generally always had gotten along but several had been surprised when Tracy Davis had been paired with Susan Bones from Hufflepuff and the two had quickly settled into a working relationship that some would even call friendship considering they had been seen talking outside of class.

Ron and Ernie had become fast friends and when Ron had discovered that Ernie was actually good at chess the two of them had created an InterHouse club for anyone interested on Sunday evenings. Harry still wasn't sure if the two of them ever actually worked on their project but they certainly seemed to be enjoying themselves.

On the other hand, Hermione was over the moon with a partner that was willing to work as hard as herself and the two of them had buried themselves under a mountain of books. Harry knew that neither one of them ever wanted to ask the other a question as they were each determined to be seen as the stronger partner. Harry wasn't sure if this was a recipe for supreme success or for mutual nervous breakdowns but he couldn't deny that Hermione had a spark in her eye that he hadn't seen a lot of last year when they had suffered under the reign of Umbridge.

The exceptions- of course- seemed to the only two Slytherin/Gryffindor pairings. Neville had come back to the dorm one night in a positive rage over an argument that he had had with Malfoy. Everyone had been shocked that the two of them had been paired together and a few side bets were going on as to who was most likely to visit the hospital wing first, but Harry was glad that the new Neville was not going to let Malfoy walk over him as he had in the past.

As for Harry and Daphne, Harry could honestly say the jury was still out. He found her arrogant and condescending. She was unapologetic in her idea that Purebloods had an inherent understanding of magical principles that muggleborns lacked and had a general air of entitlement about her that had always grated on Harry. But perhaps the most grating part was the fact that for the first time Harry had met someone that had actual reason to be prideful. Daphne was rich, beautiful, near top of her class and actually rather funny if you liked sarcasm. She possessed talent and was not afraid to show it and her confidence came from the fact that, from what Harry could see, she had succeeded in everything that she had ever tried.

However Harry was not blind. Daphne was the type to only try what she knew she would succeed at. She limited herself and he was not afraid to show her what he could bring to their assignment by simply daring to fail if necessary. She had continued to give him the cold shoulder but unlike in the past when Harry had generally responded to people- good or bad- in kind, he had decided to take a different tact with Daphne. At first he had been patient, hoping that if he was civil they would be able to stay on track with their project but after quickly seeing that the nicer he was the more it genuinely seemed to antagonize Harry had decided that the best route was to kill her with kindness. The results thus far had been amusing.

For the moment, however, the Sixth Years had needed to put their partnered assignments aside in preparation for their team challenges. Harry approached the room at the end of the hallway with a feeling of trepidation. His team had agreed to meet in an unused classroom off to the left side of the dungeons, Tackley had stressed that all prep meetings should be kept as secret as possible from the other team and Davis and Nott had suggested the classroom as 'neutral territory'. Harry had agreed, not wanting to cause waves early in the game but he couldn't deny that working on a team that included Crabbe, Goyle, Nott and Bustrode- all of whom had Death Eaters for parents was not comforting to him in the slightest. He had never done a school project that did not include either Ron or Hermione and he felt the absence of his friends keenly. He would have even have liked to have Neville. At least he was not the only Gryffindor, he tried to remind himself. Both Dean Thomas and Lavender Brown would be there so at least he would not be completely outnumbered.

"Hey Harry!" Dean called, he was walking beside Lavender and both of them looked relieved to see him. "Thank Merlin, we thought that we were lost, Lav and I have been wandering around down her for about a half hour. Leave it the Slytherins to find a spot that no one in their right mind would go to."

Harry grinned, "Well I suppose for once we should be glad that they're generally distrustful little gits. You should have heard Hermione making plans... and then realizing that she can't say anything in front of me. She kept writing on parchment and then glaring at me as if I can see over the stack of books on the other side of the table." Harry rolled his eyes as Dean laughed.

"Yeah well Seamus is right hacked off that he has to be on a team with Malfoy and Parkinson instead of you and me. He reckons this whole 'house collaboration' thing that the teachers are pushing this year is going too far if we have to fight with Slytherins and against each other."

Harry shrugged, "I don't think it's the worst thing in the world to find out what they know, and fighting against each other in a fake battle isn't any worse than practicing in the D.A.- I'm more pissed that Tackley set us up to fail by putting everyone that got to practice over the summer on the same team."

They had reached the door and Harry had raised his voice just enough so that the second part of the sentence was overheard by the Slytherins, who had already arrived and taken the prominent seats in the rooms.

"A point we were just discussing ourselves Potter," Nott said, eyeing Harry up and down appraisingly. "Glad to see that you aren't the gullible sheep the newspapers make you out to be."

"So the real question becomes, what do we do with the fact that Tackley trained the other team herself? She's been training Aurors for years, Terry said that she was the best Defense teacher that he'd ever had," Mandy Brocklehurst from Ravenclaw said.

"Nothing to brag about there," Tracy Davis muttered, rolling her eyes.

"Doesn't mean that they don't have a huge advantage over us," Hannah Abbot argued next to Mandy, glaring at the Slytherin girl with dislike.

"Not as huge as Tackley would like us to think she does," Daphne announced, her eyebrow arching. "After all... why do think Theo wanted Potter to be our captain?"

"Because he's the best at Defense?" Dean answered sarcastically.

Theo huffed impatiently, "that's obvious but irreverent. Skill doesn't mean leadership and even if Potter is good, he's not good enough to take them all on. No, we need Potter for a better reason. In case you master mages seemed to have forgotten, before Tackley taught Defense- Potter did. Tell me Potter- who on that team haven't you taught?" He asked with a wicked grin.

This tidbit of information had not escaped Harry's notice and he had been wondering exactly how much to say. Both Tackley's attitude and her nearly obsessive devotion to the Ministry had turned Harry off to her and he was distrustful of her motives. However, the fact that he was on a team with people that he couldn't trust as far as he could throw them was another issue to consider. He would sooner fail DADA class than give her or any potential Death Eaters information that he needed for the actual war that could later be used against him. Harry needed to protect himself and his friends and he knew enough to know that any valuable information he gave to his team had the potential of being given to Voldemort in the future.

"Malfoy, Parkinson and Zabini," Harry answered, knowing that this was information that they already had.

"Finch-Flechley was a part of your group? Didn't he panic and run away from the boggart during the practical in the OWLs?" Millicent Bulstrode asked laughing cruelly.

"I thought that you tried to use a summoning charm to get your examiner's wand because you couldn't remember the Disarming spell," Harry threw back at her, rolling his own eyes.

Nott gave a snort of a laugh, glancing at Harry again as though sizing him up. "I always did like that you always manage to give as good as you get Potter. But I think the real question is... do you actually have anything to offer us? Or are you just talk? Can the 'Chosen One' out fight a bunch of 16 year old wizards?"

"In case you haven't noticed, I haven't been talking much. I never promised you anything. I never said I was the 'Chosen One' or whatever you want to call me and I never nominated myself as Captain. That was your bright idea. Just like you want to call me captain and blame me if we fail but you seem to be the one running the meeting," Harry gestured to the fact that Nott had seated himself right at the head of the table. "So I guess the question isn't what I've been saying- it's what _you've_ been saying. Are you going to listen to my ideas or are you waiting for me fail?"

Tracy let out a low whistle and Daphne ran a nail along her chin, deep in thought. Dean winked at him and Lavender giggled.

Nott didn't say anything for a minute but there was slight lift to the corner of his mouth. "Alright Potter, you have our attention but regardless of whether you've been running your mouth or not, you and I both know that you've at least given some thought to how to take down your once merry-band of followers so...what were you thinking?"

Harry looked around the room, Greengrass, Nott, Crabbe, Goyle, Davis and Bustrode from Slytherin. Kevin Entwhistle, Stephen Cornfoot, and Mandy Brocklehurst from Ravenclaw. Wayne Hopkins, Meagan Jones and Hannah Abbot from Hufflepuff and Dean and Lavendar from Gryffindor. Of the 15 people on their team Harry really only knew and trusted three of them. He remembered his earlier thought that winning a stupid school competition was not nearly as important as keeping his advantage in the war before a different thought struck him. Dumbledore's words from the middle of the summer came back to him- about how not everyone's path in the war was as certain as his own. If there was one thing that Slytherins depended on it was self-preservation. While there were certainly followers of Voldemort that, like Bellatrix Lestrange, would follow him to the ends of the Earth, the majority were simply looking to be on the winning side. For the first time in his Hogwarts career found himself in a position where he was not just interacting with his classmates but leading them. Was it a completely ridiculous idea to show them a leader that they might want to follow in the future? Probably. But Harry had had worse plans.

He would need to be careful. No matter what Hermione or Dumbledore would like to believe there were future and present Death Eaters here in the castle and shrugging off the threat because they were children was as foolish as all of the adults that had dismissed Harry because of his age, but if he played his cards right there was a chance that at the very least Harry wouldn't simply be handing Voldemort more enemies because of his own prejudice and pride. Keep his secrets close to the vest; his best plans, his friends worst weaknesses were things he was not prepared to give up- everything else though might be just enough to actually win.

Harry let out a breath and took the first step, "I was thinking that if there is one thing I know for certain it's that we are never going to out think Hermione when it comes to knowing the Auror manual."

"We've all read the book," Mandy protested.

"And I guarantee you that Hermione has it memorized. Listen," Harry said addressing the Ravenclaws of the room, whom he knew were sensitive about Hermione's class ranking, "Hermione is my best mate but let me tell you, she is scary smart. Like wicked, _scary_ smart to a point that you really don't even want to know what she studies for fun in her free time."

"Well Potter that just fills us with confidence," Tracy muttered rolling her eyes.

"Which is why we shouldn't be worried about Hermione, we should be worried about Ron."

"Weasley?" three different people echoed. Dean, however, was nodding. "Harry has a point, Ron is the best chess player in the entire school, has been for years. He knows strategy."

"But they won't listen to the weasel," Nott commented thoughtfully.

"Probably not," Harry allowed, a small but wicked smile on his lips. "Hermione's weakness, is that she worships rules. The only way to beat Hermione is make sure that we get around Tackley's plans and to do that we're gonna have to make sure that we lead her to believe that we're using the book too- right before we switch to doing something that they will never see coming."

The Slytherins grinned and even the Ravenclaws looked a bit excited at the prospect. Harry looked grimly around the table as he realized that he was going to work with a bunch of people that were testing him to see what he was made of, but he found himself oddly excited about the challenge. He was going to show them a side of Harry Potter that they hadn't seen in the last five years.

HPHPHP

Three days later, Harry was running late for his meeting with McGonagall. He didn't even know why she wanted to speak with him but he had received a note that morning to come to her office but he had been forced to meet with Madame Hooch over a problem with scheduling Quidditch practices. Apparently Gryffindor and Slytherin wanted the pitch at the same times and although Harry had actually been the pro-active one for a change and gotten in the schedule early, before he had even completed trials actually, the Slytherins were claiming 'unresolvable conflicts.' It had taken a bit longer than Harry had expected to hash out. With seven people on his team to work around, each with their own clubs and obligations that Harry needed to take into consideration, and four different House teams that needed the pitch as well, it had not been an easy task. For the first time Harry appreciated why Oliver and Angelina had always seemed to find being Captain so stressful. They, on the other hand, hadn't had to work around fighting a war as well so his sympathy for some of their wilder rants was limited.

Harry knocked on the door calling out, "sorry I'm late professor, I was working out Quidditch…"

McGonagall opened the door and the scene inside stilled Harry's words. The small office was positively littered with people giving it a cramped, claustrophobic feel. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were there, as was Remus Lupin, Tonks, and Madame Pomfrey, and more surprising, both Kingsley Shacklebolt and Mad-Eye Moody were present, standing a bit apart, present but not conspicuously so. Hermione and Ron were also there and were shooting him nervous looks. Ron in particular had a guilty look, a kind of pleading in his expression as though to convey that this had not been his idea. Harry's first instinct was to panic, he couldn't imagine what could bring all of these people here, to Hogwarts, in the middle of the week, unless. "Er… did someone die?" he asked nervously.

There were few looks of surprise and a hurried response from Mrs. Weasley, "oh no Harry dear, why would you think such an awful thing?"

"I don't…um…what's going on?"

It was Professor McGonagall, her usual stern expression softened and filled with concern, began to explain. "Miss Granger approached us with some concerns about your relatives Harry and considering you were so reluctant to talk with Ms. Stavely from the Ministry we thought that perhaps it might be better to discuss it among people that you know and trust."

Harry was at first too surprised to say anything, he turned slowly to face Hermione, who was looking at him with a combination of fear, apology and defiance on her face. She looked as though she was fully aware that she had betrayed his trust but would have done it again. Harry had a fleeting sense of déjà vu of the time she had gone to McGonagall about his Firebolt. "Er… there's a lot of you here, it looks like an intervention," he muttered.

"Intervening in what?" Ron asked.

Hermione shot him an exasperated look before looking at Harry. "That's not what we meant Harry."

"Good because generally speaking, you're supposed to do that to the person who's causing the problem, so if you all want the address of my uncle, he might benefit from this meeting more than me." He was struggling to not sound incredibly rude, he knew that they meant well. He could see that much on Hermione's and Mrs. Weasleys anxious faces, but that still didn't excuse the fact that they had gathered seemingly every adult that he knew into a single room and ambushed him.

Remus shot him an apologetic look, "for the record Harry, I was of the opinion that we should have kept this meeting as small as possible but there are a lot of people that care about you. Even more people wanted to be here but we didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

Harry shot him a wry look, the very last thing he felt at the moment was comfortable. In fact every part of him was screaming at him to turn and leave. To stomp out of here and refuse to talk about anything. It was his life after all, and none of them had any right to trap him, after classes in a group, so that he was outnumbered and cornered. To make him talk about things that he would rather stay in the past. And to think that they had all gotten together and planned it all behind his back made his insides ripple with fury.

Strangely that was what stopped him from leaving. The knowledge that if he left, they would all be talking about him anyway, pitying him and guessing how messed up he was. He wondered how much had already been said. How many letters and floo calls they had exchanged all talking about 'the poor abused boy'? How much planning had they done? He knew how Hermione thought, knew how she felt about needing to turn to an adult to fix all her problems and didn't blame her for saying something when he had refused. But had it been necessary for them all to gather behind his back as they had done?

Harry took a deep breath trying to calm his racing heart.

"Would you like some tea, Harry dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked, her expression one of aching concern. He could see that most of them expected him to put up a fight about being here. McGonagall had not moved away from the door and Remus had stood in the appearance of greeting but Harry suspected the werewolf was also readying himself to give chase if necessary.

He was somewhat surprised to see the last remaining Marauder here. Though he hadn't been surprised when the man had offered to take him to Sirius' will reading or even when he had arrived to help clean up after the werewolf attack, his inclusion in the meeting surprised him, Remus had never expressed much personal interest in him before. They had had tea a few times in Third Year but it had seemed clear that Remus had tried very hard not to mention anything personal about himself. It had been a few months into the school year before he had even mentioned that he had known Harry's father in school, and even then he had not said much of their friendship. The man had never written him a letter or expressed wanting to get to know him any better than as a former student. Still he couldn't deny that he had always considered Lupin one of the easier adults to talk to and a part of him was touched that the older man had made the effort to be there.

"Yeah alright, thank you Mrs. Weasley." He could see that his easy acceptance had surprised many of them and there was a noticeable drop in tension in the room. Except from Moody who appeared to only scrutinize him harder, as though Harry was luring them all into a trap. He could see the empty armchair, right in between Remus and Ron, strategically planted so that he was beside two people that he trusted but were unlikely to say much, and directly across from Mrs. Weasley, McGonagall and Madame Pomfrey, who were undoubtedly planning on doing most of the talking. Harry crossed over to the chair and sat, accepting the tea with another small thank you.

"Er… so what exactly happens now?" Harry asked, his gaze landed on Mad-Eye and he wondered if anyone had put something in the tea. Vertiserum. Calming Drought. He felt for a moment as though he were in Umbridge's office, readying himself to be interrogated. He could feel the people around him shift, it seemed as though they had been preparing to begin with an argument and Harry had caught them off guard with his calm attitude, he felt strangely satisfied that they were feeling at least a bit of the discomfort that he was experiencing.

"Harry, the first thing that we want to make clear is that we are all here because we care about you and want the very best for you. No matter what you might think, no one is trying to make things difficult but I think you, more than most people realize that unpleasant and painful things can't simply be ignored. They have to be addressed. Do you understand?" Professor McGonagall started, her voice calm but still retained her usual stern manner. There was no pity in her eyes, of which Harry was grateful.

Harry nodded slowly, his eyes warily watching them all. He did understand the concept of having to face painful things- it was daily facet of his life- but he was unsure of exactly what they thought he was trying to avoid and worried that once again the adults in his life were controlling him in ways that he had never asked of them. "Yes professor but to be honest… I still don't understand why so many of you are here? What are you expecting to find out?"

"Harry, why didn't you say anything to one of us about the Dursleys?" Mrs. Weasley asked him sadly.

Harry blinked, caught by surprise with the opener. "What do you mean? I've told just about everyone about the Dursleys."

The adults in the room exchanged confused glances at this. "Well… we knew that you didn't particularly like them…" Mrs. Weasley started.

"Right… half of you showed up at a train station last summer to warn my uncle to be nice to me, so you must have known what he's like," Harry explained, confused as to why everyone was suddenly acting as though the fact that his uncle was a git was shocking news to them. Harry had seen the way Mrs. Weasley's lips had thinned at the mere mention of his relatives for years. Had they all thought that he was so spoiled and entitled that he had been upset whenever his uncle had refused him an extra desert?

"Oh Harry… you…" Mrs. Weasley was almost crying now and Harry was caught between feeling utterly bewildered by her surprise and wanting to comfort her.

"Mrs. Weasley… everything is fine. Look, I'm alright. You saw me over the summer… alright that wasn't exactly one of my finer moments but that _was_ after staying with Snape."

"Professor Snape, Potter," McGonagall was quick to correct despite the circumstances.

"Sort of makes it worse," Harry muttered but was careful not to speak too openly of his hostility for the professor. He was perfectly aware that there was no evidence that Snape had been at all responsible for having done anything wrong and yet he had still not forgotten his suspicions of what Snape and Malfoy had been intending to do that night before all hell had broken loose.

"Right but my point is, anything that happened wasn't from the Dursleys so… I… where is all this coming from?" But of course Harry already knew. It was the damn _Daily Prophet_ , and the 'secret world of Potter' that they had 'exposed'. Still the reaction he was receiving was worse than he would have thought. The _Prophet_ had written worse about him- how he was a delusional, pathological liar for instance- and it had never seemed to provoke this level of concern from the Order.

There was another moment of silent shuffling, as the adults shot one another a variance of confused and oddly knowing looks that Harry found insufferably patronizing.

"Harry," Remus started, apparently deciding to finally take control over a meeting that had seemingly gone in a direction that no one had quite expected. "I'm sorry that you thought that we all knew what your uncle was doing and we still let you go back there summer after summer. We knew that the Dursleys can be a bit…"

"Miserable?" Harry supplied, frowning at the wincing looks. A few looked surprised- had they expected him to defend the Dursleys?

"Well I suppose that is certainly one way to describe them…"

"We were under the impression that Dursleys was the safest place for you but-" Mr. Weasley started.

"Yeah I know," Harry finally said with impatience, "Dumbledore explained it me last year, after Sirius…" Harry roughly cleared his throat. The gaping wound of Sirius' death had past and there were now many times when he enjoyed thinking about those few precious moments he had been able to spend with his godfather- the one man that had ever truly been family to Harry- but he still hated thinking about that awful day. Of the pain and loneliness that had welled up inside of Harry until he had burst.

Destroying Dumbledore's office, childish and petty as it had been, had been a badly needed release and there was a part of him that was grateful to Dumbledore simply for the act of not interrupting him. In that moment Dumbledore had not reprimanded him or scolded, nor had he so much as asked Harry to calm down or claimed that things would be alight, because of course they would not be and Dumbledore had respected that. He noted for the first time that Dumbledore was not present during this

(ambush)

meeting and he wondered what that said about how the man felt about it. Dumbledore had been the only person to fully acknowledge that Harry had been placed in a terrible position- but he had also been the only one that had expressed his confidence that Harry would not only survive the Dursleys but rise above his experiences. Harry truly didn't know whether to be furious with the man for his callousness or satisfied that there was one person that could see that Harry was not a weak little boy that would break at the first strain of pressure.

The Order was looking very confused at Harry's words and he felt that he needed to elaborate. "Dumbledore told me that knew what my aunt and uncle were like and that he was sorry that the Dursleys made things rough but that I needed to stay there because of my mum. Well her blood… but I'm sure that he told you all that…I understand why I had to stay there, it's alright," Harry said clearly.

He did not receive the reaction he had been hoping for, instead of being reassured, this seemed to upset everyone further. There were several garbed protests before things settled down. "Harry… it is _never_ alright for a parent or a guardian to abuse the children they are supposed to be looking after. No matter what the reasons. And is never alright for other people to expect children to have to put up with abuse when they are unable to defend themselves. I hope you understand that," Madame Pomfrey said carefully. She was leaning forward slightly in her chair, her expression one of compassion but also professionalism and Harry knew that this was not the first time the school nurse had had to speak to a student who had been abused at home.

Harry pressed his lips together for a moment to hold back the cutting remark that he wanted to make. This is exactly what he had been dreading from the beginning. The blame. The feeling that it was his fault for not stopping his uncle. Instead he settled for what he hoped was a milder version. "What exactly was I supposed to do?"

"You could have told someone, Harry. If you ever felt like you are in danger you should always come to someone instead of feeling as though you have to carry on by yourself," Pomfrey said with deliberate firmness.

Harry glanced at the concerned faces and felt as though he had missed something, "Danger? Er…what exactly do you all think my uncle did to me?"

There was an awkward shift in the room. "The reason why we all wanted to be here Harry," Madame Pomfrey explained with the same gentle but firm tone, "is that we know that sometimes victims of abuse find it difficult to admit that they have been hurt. Many times to others, sometimes even to themselves, but denial is not a good thing, Harry. In order for a problem to be fixed, it has to be addressed. And in order for you to fully recover from your uncle's abuse, you first have to admit that it happened." The repeated use of his first name was beginning to grate. Alongside the use of his name, designed to show that they were close and that Harry could trust them, was the repeated word 'abuse' as though by hearing it again and again Harry would suddenly come to the realization that he was in fact a horribly traumatized victim and had never noticed before.

"I wasn't…" Harry shook his head because that wasn't what he really meant. He had been going to deny that he was abused but they wouldn't have understood what he meant. He had been thinking about the _effect_ it had had on himself, they had been talking about what the Dursleys had _done_ \- and he considered them two separate things. He had known for years that the Dursleys were abusive. One of the first decisions he could ever remember consciously making as a child was to never treat another person the way Vernon or Dudley treated him because he had known it was so deeply wrong. However, just because the Dursleys were abusive didn't mean he was little better than a whipped dog that couldn't handle the physical or emotional strain. His whole life he had told himself that there was nothing that he could do about what his Uncle did to him, but he could control how he reacted to it. Stand and fight, fold and cower- it was up to him.

"I'm not some…victim. I can handle my uncle just fine. I've been doing it for a long time. I wasn't… you think I was in danger, but it really wasn't like that."

"Harry… every year there are children that are either seriously injured or are even killed by instances of child abuse and very often those same children have tried to claim that they were fine or that their relatives honestly cared for them."

"Oh the Dursleys _don't_ care about me. I've known that since I was about three. To be honest…" Harry let out a deep breath, he didn't want to show it but it cost him a great deal to admit this. He wanted to appear calm and in control but the truth was, he felt immensely ashamed to have to explain to them all at once that he had never been able to get the Dursleys to show him even the slightest bit of affection. He knew that it was their fault, that there was nothing that he could have done. But he had foolishly tried. At first. By doing his chores. By following the ever growing, ever changing rules. By being nice. By listening to everything his aunt and uncle told him to do. Nothing had ever been good enough.

By the age of eight Harry had abandoned any belief that he might someday win over his aunt and uncle by following their rules, doing his chores and being as nice as possible. It had not been a particularly easy truth for him to swallow but he had accepted it, a long time ago, and put the matter to rest. Now, however, he wondered if _they_ believed that. He knew that they would say it wasn't his fault. Or that he deserved to be with people that cared about him, but would any of them later wonder what it was about Harry that had disgusted the Dursleys so much? After all, neither Vernon nor Petunia were incapable of feeling affection the way Voldemort or Bellatrix were. His aunt and uncle loved Dudley to distraction but could never manage the same for him. This meant that they were not entirely evil people, just cruel and selfish. That had been the hardest part to get over. He had hated them for so long. He had wanted to blame them for being evil. But in the end... they weren't really evil just scared and bitter and very, very sad. It wasn't worth all of the anger and bitterness. Why should he feel so bad over people that felt nothing at all about him?

Harry had spent a lifetime working to understand how the Dursleys felt about him and how he should feel about them and he was more than satisfied with the results. But would the people in this room, all staring at him, waiting for an explanation, understand?

"My aunt and uncle mostly ignore me. They like to pretend that I'm not there. When I was little…if anything, that was when I was in any real er… 'danger' from them. They're not the full out 'murder' type of people," Harry tried to joke but of course no one was laughing. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Mostly they leave me alone," he muttered again, thinking about how as he had grown older he had preferred it this way- mutual disregard he called it. Staying at the Dursleys had become kind of like staying at a terribly inhospitable hotel.

"You mean that they were neglectful?" Pomfrey asked.

Harry snorted, "I'll say."

"But Harry, that is a form of abuse, especially to young children."

Harry nodded slowly, his thoughts travelling back to those early days at the Dursleys. Neglectful- that was the best description of his childhood. Looking back he was surprised about the things that he had managed to learn on his own. There were plenty of things that he couldn't remember but one of his earliest memories, besides of course being told not to ask questions, was the feeling of pride that he had felt at learning to tie his own shoes. He had managed it before Dudley, who had always had one of his parents present to help him accomplish such a task, and when his cousin had realized what Harry had learned to do it on his own, he had been livid. He had knotted the shoe-laces together so tightly that Harry had been forced to cut the laces apart and had been left to go without laces at all until his cousin had grown out of his shoes and passed them on to Harry. It had been terribly uncomfortable having to watch his steps so that his feet wouldn't slide out of the too-loose shoes but it had not diminished the knowledge in Harry's mind that for the first time his cousin had done something to him not out of mere spite but because he had been _jealous_. Jealous of something that Harry had that Dudley's parents couldn't buy him. Something that really couldn't be taken away. But even Harry knew that hard-won independence at the price of safety and care from his guardians was not a fair trade off.

"It was when I was younger, I agree with you but," Harry rolled his eyes slightly, "I survived as you can see and I do happen to be sixteen and contrary to popular belief I can take care of myself."

There were more silent looks being exchanged and Harry knew that they felt he was being too flippant to be honest. That they thought by saying that he was alright he was denial. They seemed to shift gears.

"What about more physical abuse?" Pomfrey continued, "Miss Granger had mentioned that you have repeatedly expressed that you _prefer_ when your relatives left you alone, is that because they became violent with you?" Harry shot a look of betrayal at Hermione, it was one thing for her to call them all here because she was worried. He knew that she had done it because she cared and he loved that about her. It was the same way that Hermione refused to back down off of any cause that mattered to her, she would not let her friends down if she thought that they were in trouble, but to tell people things that Harry had told her in confidence he felt had crossed a line.

"It wasn't that bad."

"Harry…we need you to be honest with us," Mrs. Weasley started, sternly.

Harry felt his irritation rise, "and I never said that I wouldn't be Mrs. Weasley. But all of you seem like you got your information from the _Daily Prophet_ and I would think that all of you would know better than to trust what that trash is printing about me by now."

Harry took a breath, he had never yelled at Mrs. Weasley before but he was getting dangerously close to it now. He did not want to seem ungrateful for her help, nor did he want to push her away from him, having her feel that he did not want her in his life.

"Harry makes a good point," Kingsley interrupted smoothly, his calm, deep voice injecting a bit of peace into a tense situation. "We are all here based on a lot of hearsay and assumptions. Harry has shown all of us that he's a smart lad that has proven that he's trustworthy, he knows to be honest with us and we should know to listen to him instead of railroading over what he has to say."

It was a carefully balanced statement, warning both sides to tread carefully.

Madame Pomfrey was the most direct, "Harry, we need you to be honest, if you want to only speak with me, or with someone else, instead of everyone, we can all understand that but we need for you to be honest when we ask you a question. This is a question of your safety and as of now an official school inquiry is being launched. If I feel that you can't be honest and I have cause to be worried about your safety, I can use potions to get you to cooperate, but I don't think anyone wants that to happen. Do you agree?"

Harry nodded, shoulders tense, despite feeling that it was a bit unfair for them to trap him in a room, demand answers about his private life and then reprimand him for the need to be honest when no one else present seemed particularly ready to reciprocate with details of their own lives. The threat of using potions on him made him a combination of nervous and angry.

"You can all stay, I'm not stupid enough to think that whatever I tell one of you won't get repeated anyway. I rather you hear it from me instead of second-hand. And I'll be honest," he said not bothering to hide his annoyance with this request since he had never lied about the Dursleys… with the exception of course being to Mrs. Stavely.

There was an uncomfortable shift in the room when Harry had not failed to hide the fact that he felt that they were operating behind his back but he was at least somewhat impressed that no one tried to deny it.

"Would you like something to help you calm down? I have mild potions, ones that will make it easier to discuss unpleasant things but won't make you lose control," Pomfrey offered quietly.

"No thank you," Harry answered stiffly, glad he had never taken a sip of the tea, he was almost certain that they had put that very potion in the cup as two different pairs of eyes had trailed to his cup as the Matron had spoken.

"Alright then…Harry has your uncle ever hit you?" Madame Pomfrey asked, her voice gentle but blunt.

He stiffened and hoped that he didn't look as tense and as uncomfortable as he felt. "Yeah," Harry answered, and there were a few sharp intakes of breath from the casualness of his tone. "But he doesn't like…beat me," Harry was quick to modify.

"Can you explain the difference Harry?" Remus asked quietly.

"Well the _Prophet_ article was going on about broken bones and … scars," Harry shook his head in disgust at the way the paper had once again profited from his misery but now was not the time. "Usually, he smacked me around once or twice," Harry shrugged, feeling uncomfortable at so many eyes on him. He was regretting his stubborn choice to let them all stay. He should have spoken to McGonagall or someone reasonable alone and then let them tell the others.

"I think we still need a little more detail Harry," Remus prodded.

Harry sighed, "alright… er… I guess an example would be the day the Dementors attacked me, I suppose you all remember? Well I was out that night because my uncle heard Mundungus apparate and thought it was something magic related… didn't help anything that I heard the noise as well and thought Death Eaters were attacking," he blushed at the way it sounded.

"You thought you were being attacked by Death Eaters?" Mr. Weasley asked in surprise.

Harry shrugged defensively, "well no one was telling me what was going on, which contrary to what you all thought actually made things a lot worse. You tell people good news- like 'Voldemort is too busy recruiting and plotting to launch attacks'. You hide bad news- like, 'we're all fairly certain Voldemort is going to come and kill you but we didn't want to worry you.' The _Prophet_ obviously wasn't reporting anything so I didn't have anything to go on. Since no one said anything I had to assume the worst. After all…Anyway,"

"Wait Harry, you were saying 'after all', after all what?" Madame Pomfrey asked.

Harry grimaced and looked around the room guiltily, not wanting to repeat his last thought. The tension of the conversation was causing him to be unfair and he knew it.

"Its nothing really."

"I would still like to know what you were about to say and you promised to be honest," Pomfrey reminded him, causing Harry to clench his fist in agitation.

"I just meant that I wasn't being fair. I was going to say that no one's really ever helped me against Voldemort in the past so I shouldn't have expected anyone to help me last summer but like I said- it wasn't fair. I was angry last summer because no one would give me any information and I was tired of waiting for the other shoe to drop."

"We were working to keep you safe," Mrs. Weasley protested.

"By leaving me unprepared for what Voldemort was planning. I didn't know anything that was happening other than the fact that he wanted me dead. I know you wanted to protect me Mrs. Weasley, I understand that, but I don't think you ever stopped to think about how much worse I pictured things than what the reality actually was. I already knew that Voldemort wanted to kill me- but I had no idea how close he was to doing it. I had to assume all the time that he could attack anytime he wanted. No one told me about the Order or that they were trying to protect me. I thought that I was completely alone and if Voldemort attacked again I would have to fight him by myself," Harry breathed out refraining from reminding them all that the one time he had been in danger over the summer his 'protection' had mysteriously vanished and he had once again been on his own.

As he expected there were guilty looks around the room but Harry was a bit surprised to find that he was actually happy to have finally told them about all the pain they had given him. Their refusal to so much as speak to him had left him scared and vulnerable and _angry_ for so much of last year and the fact that they were all here now trying to fix another problem he had been forced to deal with a long time ago _all alone_ galled him. He felt that the Order was acting like the Ministry. Taking a problem that Harry had been forced to deal with and coming in after the fact and attempting to take credit for fixing it.

They had made him suffer for weeks and when he had finally gotten to Grimmauld Place the only person that had tried to give him any kind of peace of mind had been Sirius- who they had bullied into silence claiming that he was reckless and immature. Harry knew that his godfather had not been the most careful person, he also knew that at times his judgment had been… perhaps suspect was the best word he could use, but that didn't stop the fact that he had been the only person that had trusted Harry or had cared about what he wanted as much as what they all thought he needed. It was that trust that made Harry truly love the man.

He sighed realizing that he needed to get back to the original point of his story. "Anyway, I heard the sound of apparating, and well...yeah I figured it was Death Eaters that were there to do me in. I wasn't planning on going down without a fight. So I drew my wand…which my uncle hates so… he sort of grabbed me by the throat and tried to choke me. A bit."

"He tried to choke you? Like actually choke you?" Tonks asked in surprise and Harry realized it was the first time she had spoken in the meeting. For the first time he realized that of all of them Tonks had been the most skeptical that anything had truly been wrong with his uncle.

Harry frowned a bit in her direction wondering why she had bothered to come at all if she was clearly unsure that he had a problem with his relatives. He didn't know Tonks well, or she him for that matter but her suspicion of him oddly hurt. He nodded in answer before he added, "Yeah and then...I'm not sure… but I'm fairly certain that I did something by accident or maybe it was just that protection my mum gave me because after a minute he dropped me like he'd been electrocuted or something."

There were more exchanged glances and grim looks. "If it was your mum's protection that's pretty bad Harry. That's only supposed to kick in against someone wishing to do you real harm," Remus explained quietly.

Harry took in their worried faces, Mrs. Weasley in particularly looked very close to tears. He realized there was really only thing he could say, "fine, the Dursleys are terrible, but I've known that for years and to be honest I thought the rest of you knew that as well so it really comes down to all the same thing- why are you suddenly worried about it now?"

"Harry we never would have let you stay…"

"It wasn't your job to do anything about them, Mrs. Weasley," Harry said with what he hoped was gentle firmness. "You and Mr. Weasley have done a lot for me. You invited me to stay at your house, you brought me to the Quidditch World Cup and I've never really been able to repay you for all that," Harry held up his hands when both of the Weasley parents looked as though they were going to protest the need for Harry to pay back anything. "I just want you know that I was…I _am_ grateful for everything that you did for me. When Fred, George and Ron picked me up after my First Year… I really needed to get out of that house…" Harry didn't know what else to say. The days spent locked in his small bedroom following the most vicious beating his uncle had ever been able to inflict on him… the thought had crossed his mind that they might have actually saved his life that time.

Mrs. Weasley frowned and looked over at Ron, "you all said that he had bars on his window…I thought that you were exaggerating."

Harry shook his head, "no that was true. And… well I don't want you to take this the wrong way Mrs. Weasley but we did tell you and nothing happened. I'm not upset, I just er…wanted to point out that I have told people about the Dursleys."

McGonagall's expression was tense and she was looking at Harry with calculating eyes, "you said that you really needed to get out of the house- did your uncle attack you physically as well as lock you up?"

Harry grimaced, that had been the worst it had ever gotten and he wasn't sure what he should say. He took a deep breath, summoning his Gryffindor courage before settling on the truth. He didn't owe the Dursleys his silence, not anymore. "That was when Dobby was trying to get me expelled for 'doing magic' outside of Hogwarts. Except not only did he use magic in front of my uncle and his muggle guests, he ruined an important business meeting. One that Vernon had been planning for weeks," Harry muttered, still bitter about the events of that night. "It was the maddest my uncle ever got at me. He er… he used his belt on me before chucking me in the room and barely gave me any food to eat. It was… it was bad, but I am telling you the truth that that was the worst it ever got. He beat me until I was black and blue but the _Prophet_ was exaggerating when they were talking about scars and broken bones, he never did that."

There was tense silence before Pomfrey spoke in her gentle but firm voice, "I appreciate your honesty Harry. I know it must be hard on you to admit that to us."

Harry narrowed his eyes at her, refusing to point out the obvious- that they were the ones that had insisted on asking him about some of the most painful and humiliating experiences of his life- because he knew that they were considering this little interrogation some kind of beneficial experience in the long run for him. Painful now but the first step to a 'healthier future'. Harry considered it digging up buried problems for others to look at and examine and was glad it was over.

"What do you think we need to do now?" Mrs. Weasley asked the nurse, her cheeks damp.

Harry interjected before things went too far. "I'm going to be seventeen this summer and that means that I can leave and never go back. I know that you all are worried about me but I really do mean it when I tell you that I'm not in any real danger from uncle. Not anymore," he added wryly.

"Harry you just admitted that he choked you, and that you were beaten with a belt. I assume there were other incidents? These can't be the only times magic was done in front of your uncle?" Mr. Weasley asked with a deep frown.

Harry shook his head, "no there were others. I know you all think I'm… downplaying it or…" Harry shook his head at the term, "in denial but I'm trying to be as honest as I can. My uncle and I have never gotten on. I'm fairly certain that he hates me and I can't care enough about him to hate. If I never saw him again it wouldn't bother me for a moment but I'm also telling the truth when I said that he doesn't come home every night and beat the stuffing out of me for kicks. I meant it- it's a few jabs here and there. But unlike a lot of people, he doesn't seek me out or anything. If I stay out of his way he really does stay out mine. And I know what you're going to say Madame Pomfrey, a lot people probably say that, right? But I have no interest in lying about my uncle. I never have before. I've said all this stuff in the past but no one was listening."

"Harry… we were wrong in the past. We should have been listening to what you were saying and there must have been a feeling a betrayal that no one seemed to protect you."

Harry frowned at what the school nurse was saying. He had never felt betrayed by anyone for not stopping the Dursleys. In truth despite his displeasure with having to return each summer he had never really considered it anyone's responsibility to 'save' him. He had been so happy to come to Hogwarts because it had gotten him away for 10 months out of the year. He had been thrilled when the Weasleys had let him stay at the Burrow, limiting his time even more. He had never really expected anything more from them. Well… perhaps from Dumbledore but the man had explained his reasons and although he didn't particularly like them, Harry did agree with them.

"I don't feel betrayed!" He sighed in exasperation and struggled once more not to snap at them as he saw Mrs. Weasley prepare herself to speak again. "You're listening now I guess and … that's great but if I'm being honest it's also a bit late. I have to stay there for a _month_ , that's it. After over 15 years, you can't be that worried that they're finally going to snap and try and do me in for good, I don't need to go into…Ministry custody. I'm safest with my mum's family, and I don't trust the Ministry to protect me at all. That's the reason I refused to speak to Stavely, because I don't think anyone in this room is dumb enough to think they sent her because the Minister is suddenly concerned about my 'welfare'."

"If you did go to the Ministry you could press charges against your uncle," Kingsley suggested quietly.

Harry shook his head. "For what purpose? Revenge? I don't need it. My uncle… he's a very miserable person. I think that's bad enough and since he only hurts magical orphans left on his doorstep, I don't think I have to worry about him hurting anyone else."

Ron gave a stifled laugh at that comment that received several glares- not the least from his mother- and an amused wink from Harry. Harry was glad that his best mate was still able to laugh with him. He had worried that after this meeting his friends would think of him differently.

The adults all looked at one another, clearly torn as to what the right decision was.

"Regretfully…I think Mr. Potter makes some very valid points. The protection his relatives offer does appear to outweigh the risks, especially given the time frame. And I don't think that any of us can deny the fact that the Ministry is a threat in itself. And let us not comically entertain the idea that they will allow us to arrange different living conditions for Mr. Potter without their approval," McGonagall said, and with obvious regret.

It was agreed. Reluctantly and, in Mrs. Weasleys case, tearfully, but agreed, Harry would return to the Dursleys with the understanding that he would never surrender his wand and he would use magic if necessary to defend himself, damn the consequences if it came to it. Harry started to rise from his chair thinking that they had at last settled things but it appeared that he was given no such luck.

Madame Pomfrey held out her hand and stopped him from leaving, "We're not finished just yet. We've dealt with the situation as far as your physical danger but abuse like this takes a toll on a person and there is your mental health to consider as well. We have a few options for you. You can speak with me, or your Head of House if you prefer. There are also counselors from St. Mungo's if you prefer a more anonymous person to speak to. In the past some students have spoken with Professor Snape though I doubt you would feel comfortable with that arrangement."

Harry tensed, his cheeks reddening in a combination of embarrassment and anger. "I really don't need to talk to anyone ma'am. I've told you, I'm fine."

"Harry, you have proven that you are a strong and capable young man and you have done well all these years on your own but you don't have to handle all of this alone. We want to help you, not just with what comes next but with dealing with what has already happened," Madame Pomfrey explained.

Harry toyed with the ragged edge of his cuticle, wondering exactly what they all saw when they looked at him. The poor abused boy that couldn't stand up to his uncle. The 'troubled' orphan that desperately needed the help of others because he couldn't handle himself.

"Thank you Madame Pomfrey, all of you really, but I don't need help with anything. I'm not… I don't need help," he tried to explain.

"It's important that you have someone to talk to Harry…"

"But I did…I mean I already talked about all this," Harry said, flushing slightly.

"With who?"

"Sirius." Harry had expected it but he was still upset to see the looks of skepticism and condescension that many of the adults had for his late godfather's guidance.

"When did you talk to Sirius about this?" Hermione asked, surprising him by finally speaking. Harry licked his dry lips and his hands fidgeted restlessly with his still full tea cup. He would rather not talk about this conversation, it felt like it was combining the two most painful topics in his life into one discussion. Speaking about what the Dursleys had done to him and having to think about the life that he could have had with Sirius. A life where he still could have gone to Sirius for advice.

"Sirius knew about all this?" Remus asked, his voice slightly odd.

"He was my godfather, he cared about me," Harry answered defensively.

"We know that he cared about you Harry but he never said anything to any of us and he really should have," Remus said carefully, his expression thoughtful as he seemed to consider what it meant that Sirius had never confided this conversation with his best living friend.

"It was between the two of us. Sirius respected me, respected that my opinion and that my privacy actually matters for something." Harry felt himself getting defensive on his godfather's behalf. If it had been anyone else's guardian no one would have questioned their right to privacy, but of course Sirius had never been given any credit for the role that he had played in Harry's life.

"Sirius was an adult he knew that it was dangerous for you to be in that house."

"Mrs. Weasley I know that you never liked Sirius."

"That's not true."

"Yes it is Mrs. Weasley," Harry corrected firmly. "It's alright. I understand. I still care about you even if you didn't always get along with my godfather. But Sirius cared about me more than anyone, I think that's why he emancipated me…" Harry said thoughtfully.

"What exactly did Sirius say?" Hermione asked, her own tone judgmental and Harry could remember her own concerns about Sirius' mental stability.

"Er… alright," Harry grunted with frustration, he abruptly sat the tea cup down on the table so that he could run his hand through his hair in agitation. He took another minute to gather his thoughts and he appreciated the fact that no one seemed to be trying to hurry him along, they were letting him tell it at his own pace. He couldn't look them all in the eyes, not now, and instead focused on the drip of condensation on the side of his cup, cooling from the hot tea. Harry let himself think back for a moment, trying to recapture the longest conversation he had ever managed with the man that should have raised him.

"So, last summer, after the Order knew enough to get my relatives out of the house before picking me up but apparently still didn't know anything was wrong," Harry said rolling his eyes a bit, and he could feel a few people stiffen at the reproach but they still said nothing, "and they brought me to Grimmauld Place." Harry felt a stab of reproach for Mrs. Weasley in thinking about the next bit of it. "Sirius and I didn't have a lot of time to talk or anything. There were always a lot of people around and… Sirius hated being in that house. It was like torture to him. But one night… I- I woke up because my scar was hurting. Worse than it usually did back then anyway. And I decided that I would make myself some tea, maybe stop it from hurting more," Harry shrugged. Hardly anything had ever helped him when his scar had pained him. "It was late but Sirius was in the kitchen…

 _Harry could smell the strong drink as he walked into the dark basement kitchen but it took him a moment to actually see who was sitting alone at the table in the still hours of the night. "Harry?" Sirius asked, his voice gruff but clear. His godfather might have been drinking alone in the middle of the night but he didn't appear to be drunk at the moment. Harry still felt the need to approach cautiously, the only experiences that he had with dealing with someone worse for drink was with either his Aunt Marge- who became belligerently nasty, or his Uncle Vernon- who became unpredictably violent. His uncle was not drunk often- Petunia wouldn't allow it- but the times that he was had been when Harry had learned as a child to make himself scarce. He was almost surprised by the wariness he felt, he had never before compared Sirius to his uncle, but long habit had taught Harry to prepare himself for the worst in any situation._

" _You alright Sirius?" he asked quietly, taking in the deep shadows under the man's eyes, the general air of exhaustion and misery that clung to him._

" _I should be asking you the same thing kiddo, have a seat. I'll make you some tea if you want."_

" _That's alright, I've got it. I- I rather do something than sit down at the moment," Harry explained awkwardly. The remnants of the dream he had been startled from were seared in his mind, the feeling of hopeless inaction. The feeling of being paralyzed when he needed to act. He was almost thankful that the sudden burning of his scar had jolted him awake or else he would have been trapped in the horrible scene he had witnessed weeks ago… and every night since._

" _Tough night?" Sirius asked his quietly._

" _Er… couldn't sleep."_

 _Sirius eyed him carefully and Harry felt himself stiffen under the scrutiny. He hated when people paid too close attention to his looks. His hair was shaggy and needed a cut badly. He was too skinny, made worse by the fact that he was wearing pajamas that were too big by three sizes, not to mention old and frayed. His skin was pale and he knew that the shadows under his eyes were more pronounced than they should have been. He didn't make an attractive picture._

" _Couldn't sleep, or didn't enjoy sleeping?" Sirius asked him, taking a small sip from his tumbler. He was leaning his elbows on the kitchen table, both hands cradling the glass in front of him as his fingers rounded the rim in practiced thought._

" _What do you mean?" Harry asked evasively, pretending that he hadn't understood what Sirius was really asking. "I know it's not the most exciting of activities but sleep is pretty much a constant in life, don't you think?"_

 _Sirius gave a brief snort of laughter, he seemed amused by the words but there was a bitterness there as well. "What I wouldn't give if that weren't true! When I was younger your dad and I would stay up to all hours because we wanted to have fun and now…" Sirius gave him a pained smile but there was understanding in there too and for the first time that summer Harry felt like someone, even for an instant, knew what it felt like to be him. To be screaming on the inside even if you were cool and collected on the outside. "I don't enjoy sleeping much either, Harry," he admitted._

 _The kettle whistled, and Harry jumped, slightly startled. With a very subtle flick of Sirius' wand, magic had helped the kettle along and it had boiled faster than he had anticipated. He poured the boiling water into his cup and took a seat across from Sirius caught between feeling comforted by the confession and wary of the way the conversation was headed. "How did you know?" Harry asked softly._

 _Sirius smirked a bit but the humor didn't reach his eyes, which were sharp and narrow as they took in Harry's slouched posture and the way he was tapping his fingers restlessly against the table. "Har- you had a hell of a night when Voldemort came back. Just hearing about it has given me a nightmare or too, I can only imagine what it's like for you."_

" _I'm alright."_

" _I think just about anyone would have a hard time wrapping their head around being kidnapped in a graveyard by a sociopath. It's natural to be having a hard time-"_

" _I can handle myself just fine, Sirius," Harry snapped, suddenly defensive. He wasn't even sure why he was so abruptly angry, his godfather had only expressed honest concern and Harry had thrown it back in his face._

" _I never said that you couldn't," Sirius said mildly, picking up the bottle of Firewhiskey that had more than a bit of a dent in it and poured a small measure into Harry's cup. At Harry's surprised look Sirius grinned, "don't get so excited Harry, that's not enough for you to get drunk or anything but it might be just enough to help you fall asleep in an hour. Or at least take the edge off a bit- it sounds like you could use it," Sirius raised an eyebrow in his direction and Harry flushed slightly._

 _Harry took a sip of the whiskey infused tea and coughed, sputtered at the burning in his throat. Sirius laughed, "oh Merlin you really did look just like James. You should have seen him Fifth Year after the Quidditch Cup, I don't think even managed to get pissed he hated the taste so much. You get used to it though."_

 _Harry glared at the older man indignantly. "Aren't you supposed to be discouraging me from drinking?"_

 _Sirius shrugged, "you've had to deal with all the shit from being an adult, can't see why shouldn't get a few of perks. Besides Harry, alcohol and war go together like bosom cousins- the Order might think they can protect your innocence but you and I know better. Not that alcohol solves your problems...but occasionally they can help you avoid them for a time," Sirius admitted, staring unhappily at his glass._

 _Harry took in the man's unhappy appearance and appreciated that there was at least one person that knew the value of not giving out empty reassurances. He immediately felt bad for his sharp retort. "I'm sorry Sirius, I shouldn't have gone off on you like that."_

 _Sirius waved off the apology, "I can take a bit more than that. After the month you've had… probably deserve worse anyway."_

" _It's not your fault..."_

" _It's my job to make sure that you're alright Harry. That's what I promised James and your mum, and that's what I always meant to do for you. I felt like a real arsehole for running out while you were still in the hospital wing."_

" _But you needed to…"_

" _I think the esteemed Order of the Phoenix could have waited another 12 hours to reform and we wouldn't have been anymore clueless than we are now."_

" _I thought Remus said that you know a lot of what's Voldemort's been doing."_

 _Sirius shrugged and despite the gravity of the situation, Harry felt oddly comforted that his godfather was being straight with him instead of insisting that 'the adults have everything under control.' It was somehow easier hearing that they were just as lost as he felt rather than feeling as though they were carrying on entirely without him. "We've got the basic idea of things, we know what he wants, we know from_ terrible _experience how he operates and- thanks in large part to you by the way- we know a good amount of his supporters, but all of that wasn't exactly investigative brilliance."_

 _Harry nodded his understanding, his expression falling with disappointment, "it was stuff you would have known anyway."_

" _Stuff you've probably figured out yourself as well I bet," Sirius said, watching his godson with a solemn but calculating expression. Harry shrugged glancing away from the unusually intense stare he was receiving. "Harry… this might be the last thing you want to hear but I'm only saying it because I know firsthand, there's really no use in worrying about something that you can't control."_

 _Harry felt his temper flare at the words, no matter how softly they were spoken. "So I'm just supposed to- to what? Forget it? To go around and clean the house and pretend that everything's…just perfectly bloody lovely?"_

" _If I thought for a second that was possible I would tell you go ahead and don't feel guilty about it for a second, but whatever Molly Weasley seems to think, we both know it doesn't work that way. I'm not saying forget it-_

" _Because I can't forget it!" Harry burst out, oblivious to the words that were being spoken. There was an alien feeling of panic in his chest, he had never had this urge before… the absolute need for someone to hear him talk._

" _I see it all the time Sirius. Cedric… it was just so…so_ fast. _I never really expected it to be so fast. I thought… I dunno- I thought that I would… I mean I knew someone was out to get me but… I thought I would see them, you know? But I didn't even know it was happening. It was supposed to be over. I finished the bloody maze!" Harry was rather beside himself at this point because there had been no way to make sense of the events of that night. To go from danger, to thinking that he was safe and then into more danger than he had ever been in before in his life._

" _One minute we were taking the Cup and…" Harry winced, "I was so bloody proud of myself Sirius," he practically whispered, he could tell that the older man had heard him just fine though when he gave him a sympathetic look. He felt ashamed at the admission. He had never told anyone that part before._

" _Harry you deserved to be proud of yourself. You were three years younger than any of the other Champions. That's three years more of experience that they had. Three more years of classes. They were fully qualified in full possession of their magical power- you weren't. Not to mention the little fact that you didn't even sign up for that Tournament and you still won."_

 _Harry shook his head in protest, "that's what I thought but I didn't, it was all because of Moody- well Barty Crouch Jr."_

" _Bullshit," Sirius interjected so quickly that Harry stopped talking out of sheer surprise. "But…"_

" _No listen, Krum and Fleur both knew about the dragons and you still beat them. If anything Dumbledore's at fault for_ _ **not**_ _telling you and Cedric what the task was going to be when he knows Olympe and Kararoff well enough to know that they would have cheated. And what's more is that you were the only one to try and level the playing field." Harry looked at him curiously for a minute and Sirius continued, "You told me at the time that you had told Cedric what the task was, right? That was damn noble Harry."_

 _Harry scoffed, "right. Just like I was stupid enough to believe that Ron and Hermione were actually going to die during the Second Task."_

" _And why wouldn't you have believed that?" Sirius demanded. "Everyone told you that the Tournament had been called off years ago because people had died. The only thing you're guilty of is taking people at their word and believing that the worst case scenario is possible. Now other than the fact that Mad-Eye might try to run a paternity test on you with that kind of paranoia… all things considered in your life Harry, I think your assumption was more than reasonable. When had you ever been in a situation where the threat wasn't real? You're an adult and you were facing off against children- children three years older than you but still blindly naïve about the world. They were thinking that the most important thing was winning, you know enough to know that there are bigger stakes in life. My point is, that Crouch might have given you a few helpful hints but the big stuff was all you. You even said that you stopped Krum from using the Cruciatus Curse on Cedric-"_

" _But he was Imperised-"_

" _that doesn't change the fact that you did the right thing. Just like when you offered to share that Cup with Cedric."_

 _Harry ducked his head and shook it back and forth forlornly. He didn't think that he had ever regretted a decision in his life more than that one simple, stupid suggestion. He'd consider going off to find the now wild Ford Anglia in the woods and flying it BACK to London more reasonable then that one thoughtless suggestion._

" _Harry…look at me." Harry didn't want to do it. He didn't want to look up, just to be told that it wasn't his fault because he couldn't have known what was going to happen. He didn't want to see Sirius stare into his eyes and make him say that he believed that he wasn't guilty when he knew for a fact that in the end it didn't matter. Cedric was dead and Harry had played his part in it._

 _Still against all reason he obeyed and looked up into his godfather's tired, grey-eyes that were rimmed slightly with red. Harry wondered if it was from the drink or from just lack of sleep. He suspected a bit of both._

 _Sirius sighed and rubbed a hand slowly down his drawn face. "When you got here for the summer I wanted to tell you stories about the good times with your parents. Their wedding day. Or the time that James switched out Snape's hair potion so that it was dyed hot pink for over a week. Just between you and me, I suspect that's why he isn't so keen on washing his hair to this day, as you might have noticed." Harry grinned and was reluctantly cheered by the idea no matter how ridiculous. "Alright, alright, so Snape was always a greasy git but still, my version is more entertaining," Sirius added laughing as he took another sip of his drink. He pulled himself together and was somber once more._

" _The first time I actually fought a Death Eater was when I was 16. I told you a couple of days ago that I had run off from home when I was that age and stayed with your grandparents. Mr. and Mrs. Potter were great people, Harry. The first people to really see the good in me but they had also made a lot of enemies with the Death Eaters. One day we were in Diagon Alley. It was just this normal day. I was joking around with Prongs and we had wandered off a bit," Sirius shrugged. "We were 16, in a few months we would be of- age and at the time…" Sirius grinned at him, "well I suppose you might understand the feeling but at the time it seemed impossibly grown up. There was an attack. And it was everything that you just said Har. One minute everything was brilliant and the next… people are yelling and screaming. James was trying to run back to help his parents… they were older than a lot of parents for that age. They hadn't been able to have kids for a long time and they loved your dad, but they were getting on in years and James knew that if it came down to it he was going to have to protect them instead of the other way around. To tell you the truth, I don't think he had ever really worried about them being old until that moment. It was like it all came crashing down on him at once. I think that was the moment that James really…grew up," Sirius had turned thoughtful and Harry wasn't sure what the other man was thinking about. After a moment he took a deep breath._

" _I'll tell you more about that story another time, but the reason I brought this up is because when the first strike happened I was in this shop- and the girl next to me was killed. She was just standing there, laughing at a joke I had told her. I was trying to pick her up and just when I was thinking that she was falling head over heels for me… she was dead." Sirius took a deep breath and his chest shuddered with its release. "That was… Merlin 20 years ago. It was 20 years ago Harry and I can tell you as if it were yesterday that she had blond hair that was braided off to the side. She was wearing these bright blue robes and I remember thinking that they sure as hell brought out her eyes, and that they were beautiful. I remember that because her eyes were closed when I saw her for the very last time and I could never decide if that was a damn shame or a relief because I wouldn't want to see those bright eyes cold and lifeless. It was the first time I had seen someone die in front of me...I wish it could have been the last."_

 _Harry released a shaky breath unsure what to say. His godfather had finished his drink and seemed to be eyeing the bottle and contemplating another. Harry wasn't sure what propelled him in that moment but he reached across the table and took his hand. "Cedric's eyes were open when he died," Harry said softly. "I think it was probably a relief that hers were closed."_

 _Sirius nodded but said nothing for a minute. "You never forget, Harry," he said quietly. "I don't expect you to, but I also don't think that you deserve to beat yourself up over something that you didn't do and you can't change. I don't even know that girl's name but I remember her face and when I fight against Death Eaters I like to think that I do it a bit for her- or I guess more importantly for the next girl that goes into a shop and wants to flirt with a handsome bloke," Sirius wagged his eyebrows._

 _Harry nodded, taking in the words and letting them settle over him. He wasn't sure how he felt at the moment. He was relieved that someone else knew what it was like- that suddenness of death. But it didn't stop the problem. Cedric was still dead. There was no fixing that._

 _The two sat in silence for a bit before Sirius filled Harry's tea cup- with both tea and a bit more Firewhiskey before looking at him seriously. Harry accepted the drink and drank cautiously, idly noting that the taste wasn't as bad the second time around, and worried about the sternness in his godfather's expression. "Harry… I'm glad that you're here tonight because I've been wanting to say this when no else was around and as you know," Sirius grimaced and his eyes travelled in the direction that Harry knew to be the room where Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were staying, "that hasn't been easy."_

" _What's wrong?" Harry asked, suddenly wary._

" _I was hoping that you could tell me. Listen Harry… before I really get into this I want to make sure that you understand where I'm coming from alright? There aren't too many people that have really believed in me."_

" _I-"_

 _Sirius held up his hand, "people have had their reasons. Some of it had to with my family. Generally speaking, the apple usually doesn't fall to far from the tree, you know. But the rest of it was my own fault. I've never been a big one for rules Harry, and unlike you I can't always claim that my heart was in the right place," Sirius admitted candidly. He took another sip of his drink, his eyes pensive and Harry wondered what exactly he was talking about. Was it the prank that he had pulled with Snape that had led him to seeing Lupin as a werewolf? Or were there other things that Harry didn't know?_

" _I'm not saying this for your sympathy, I'm telling you this because I really want you to understand what it meant to me when James and your mum asked me to be your godfather. I mean I was the best man at their wedding but other than keeping track of the rings, there isn't too much to screw up there, but when they trusted me to take care of you? You were the most important thing in the world to them, that's not just words Harry, that's the honest truth. They loved you more than their own lives and the only thing they wanted is for you to have a good life so…" Sirius cleared his throat a bit awkwardly and then leveled Harry with a serious look. "I know that we don't know each very well but I'm your godfather and I wanted to know… are your aunt and uncle taking care of you?"_

 _Harry blinked at the direction his godfather had taken his little speech. "What?"_

 _Sirius sighed, "listen, I'm not trying to make things difficult for you, I realize that you don't owe me any explanations and you might tell me to mind my own business but I saw when you first got here, your shirt moved and there were bruises on your neck, and since Dementors don't leave bruises…"_

 _Harry felt like he had missed a step going down. He had never before been questioned about his uncle's liking for more…physical discipline. There had been a couple of times in primary school the bruises that he sported had been commented on but since Harry was a 'well known trouble maker' among the parents of other children, 'a troubled orphan seeking an outlet' as one school counselor had so elegantly put it, the Dursleys had never been suspected._

 _Harry considered dodging the question. He liked the fact that Sirius treated him like an adult. Trusted him enough to be honest about the war and death instead of treated like a child, if he told Sirius about his uncle would it suddenly bring back full force that Harry was nothing more than a child that he needed to protect? But Sirius wasn't looking at him with pity or condescension, he was looking at him the way Ron might have if he had asked. It made telling the truth that much easier. "I hate it there, Sirius. I always have."_

 _Sirius nodded, wrapping his arm around Harry's shoulders, gripping it tightly in support._

" _Does your uncle always hurt you like that?" he asked quietly._

 _Harry bit his lip, trying to think of the right answer. "He… he tends to strike out first but he doesn't keep it going, does that make any sense?"_

 _Sirius frowned as though trying to picture the scene in his mind. "I'm not exactly sure what you mean," he admitted with patience. "Do you have other bruises under those…delightful muggle clothes?"_

 _Harry shook his head. "No, he's not like that. He doesn't… I mean I'm not…" Harry wavered for a moment unsure exactly how to describe the exact scale of violence his uncle enjoyed. "He does it when he's really angry but after a couple of smacks or a hit around the head he stops. It's… well it could be worse," Harry shrugged and looked up to see Sirius' reaction, he was surprised to see his godfather only nod in understanding._

 _He pulled back a sleeve of his shirt to reveal a faded scar along his inner wrist. At first glance it looked like a self-inflicted cut would and Harry looked up in alarm. Sirius shook his head, "it's not what you're probably thinking, your mum thought the same thing when she saw it the first time. Wizards don't hurt themselves the same way as muggles. Not to say that there aren't wizards that don't self-harm or take their own lives but we tend to be a bit more...creative. I told you a couple of days ago that I left home at 16 because I hated my parents. What I didn't get into was how I showed up at your dad's house. I- I rather not go into a lot of details Harry but suffice it to say... I can understand not getting along with your family."_

 _Harry looked down at the scar that remained from what must have been a serious injury at one point and let out a shaky breath. "What did my dad say?" he asked quietly. Ever since he had learned that he was a wizard Harry had wondered from time to time how James Potter would feel about his son who was mistreated by a muggle._

" _He was bloody furious. Wanted to go over there and duel them that night. Of course no one can just come in to Grimmauld Place even if they wanted to but James hated to see his friends in pain. He would have hated to see you in pain," he added. Sirius turned to look Harry fully in the face. "After he calmed down a bit he told him... 'weak people always pick the easiest ways to hurt people and even though most people always survive, the strongest people make a life for themselves.' To be honest I don't think it was quite as eloquent as that at the time but it was one of the few memories that I could hold onto that actually gave me comfort instead of blind revenge in Azkaban. The idea that someday I wouldn't just survive what Peter did to me. Or what my parents had done to me. That I would find you and we would live a good life."_

 _Harry looked around the dark kitchen that he knew Sirius despised as much as Harry hated the cupboard under the stairs. "I hope you don't have to stay here long Sirius. I hope you get to live a good life...and that I'll be there too."_

" _Wouldn't be a good life without you kiddo," Sirius answered with a smile that did not quite reach his eyes this time. "We can tell the Order you know," he added quietly. "They won't allow you to stay in that house if you're in danger."_

" _I'm not in danger though, not really. I mean I do hate it there and if I can leave that would be brilliant but I'm not in danger and… and I don't want anyone else to know," he added quietly, thinking of the reaction of the others. Sirius had been calm- sympathetic but calm- he couldn't imagine Mrs. Weasleys reaction._

" _I hope you know that you have nothing to be ashamed about Harry. What they did is on them. What you do is on you- and from what I've seen you do everything exceptionally."_

 _Harry flushed at the compliment but shook his head, "I-I've told people before that I hate living with the Dursleys and it's never helped. Dumbledore wants me to stay there and I think we both know that what Dumbledore thinks is best goes. I don't want to beg to leave only to be told that I need to suck it up and deal with it."_

" _If they knew the whole story no one would say that Harry. And for the record anyone who ever says that to you can tell to go to hell, they have no idea what's it like and you shouldn't have to explain it to them."_

 _Harry considered the man's words, but at the same time he remembered the way the Order had all looked at him the night he had arrived at Headquarters, a meddlesome child that needed to stay upstairs lest he hear something too upsetting and important and hated the idea of crawling to them like a kid asking for help. "I only have another summer and half Sirius and it's not like...like with your parents," Harry said apologetically. "I'm not in danger or anything, just miserable. I can handle myself."_

" _Are you sure?" Sirius asked. "I know that you wanted to live with me and we had only known each other for about a half hour when I offered, I would think if you would be willing to live with a stranger, you would certainly want to stay with the Weasleys or someone that you've known for years."_

 _Harry flushed a bit as he confessed, "I wanted to stay with you because… well because you're my godfather, we could have been like a family, you know? With anyone else it would be…. It would be like that they just felt sorry for me."_

 _Sirius hesitated for one moment before he nodded with a smile. "We'll keep the secret in the family," he agreed. "But only if you tell me if you ever need help. If you_ _ **ever**_ _need help Harry, you say the word and I will be there, promises or threats from Dumbledore be damned, you hear me?"_

 _Harry nodded and smiled tiredly at his careworn godfather. Sirius reached over and draped an arm over his shoulder, pulling him into a one-armed hug._

" _It sucks when you can't rely on your family Harry but don't let that mean that you can't rely on anyone. People say all the time that you can't chose family but they're damn fools. I chose the Potters- including your mum- and your dad chose me. I choose you."_

" _I choose you too, Sirius."_

" _Good. That's the important thing Harry. There are people in this world that will work to tear you down but its' your choice if you let them. I…There were times when I gave in to my darker impulses and it took me a long time to realize where those came from in the first place, but I've watched you Harry. You turned your back on that kind of bitterness a long time ago. Don't let other people dictate what you do, or what you think is right."_

 _Harry smiled slightly at that. He wasn't sure how Sirius had gotten to the root of things so quickly. That he had learned to do right by fighting against his relatives. That he had taken strength in the fact that he had never turned away from what they thought was right and had worked to be better than them._

" _You're going to be alright Harry, I promise."_

Harry couldn't relate all of that to the Order. They wouldn't understand. Especially since it wasn't so much what Sirius had said that night about the Dursleys but the way he had looked at him and the way he had said it. There had been a… _pride_ in Sirius' expression that Harry would never forget.

"We were the in the kitchen and we talked about… about Cedric at first," Harry muttered, his fists unconsciously tightening. He cleared his throat roughly, "and then he asked me about some bruises that he saw. Sirius told me that we choose our family. And I don't choose the Dursleys. They've never treated me like family or wanted me to be a part of their family so… that's it then. They're just a place I stay. Once I'm of age they'll be out of my life and in a few years they'll be a distant memory. We talked about it and just because the Dursleys ruined my childhood it doesn't mean I have to let them ruin my whole life too."

"Do you think that Sirius really got over the way that his family treated him?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

Harry flinched as though he had been hit. The words shocked him from the usually kind woman. "I think Sirius was locked up in a place that he hated after having to spend 12 years in Azkaban. I think that the people that were supposed to help him ignored his opinions and treated him like he was in their way. I think Sirius was _relieved_ to go through the veil rather than have to go back to that damn house!" He hissed angrily.

There was silence after Harry's outburst. Remus was chalk white and Harry felt a burst of remorse for implying that he laid any blame at the werewolf's feet for Sirius' death. If anything he knew that Sirius loved having Remus there with him, at least some of the time, during that last, difficult year. Hermione and Professor McGonagall were also looking unusually pale while Tonks was looking uncharacteristically angry.

Harry let out a long breath and when he spoke again his voice was quiet and thoughtful. "Sirius hated that house because it reminded him of a time that he would rather forget and before you bring it up, yeah I would hate to be trapped at Privet Drive ever again. I told Sirius that myself once, but if I ever am, I hope it's not after spending years in Azkaban being forced to think about nothing but the worst things my uncle ever did to me." Harry took a breath and then tried to look at the three adults in front of him at once, hoping against hope that if he said this convincingly he would only have to say it once. "I hated living with the Dursleys and I've known for years that Uncle Vernon hates me, but I've learned to deal with it. Mrs. Weasley… I meant what I said when I told you that I was grateful for everything that you've done for me. I know that I have people that care about me, and that's more important than the people that don't. That's what Sirius taught me. Now…if you don't mind, can I go?"

Madame Pomfrey gave him a long assessing look, as though she was contemplating asking him to go down to her wing for an impromptu check-up but of course that would be ridiculous. It had been two months since he had last seen his uncle and he had had a rather extensive (unrelated) hospital visit since that time- if there was any damage that had needed to be found, they would have found it.

"You can go Potter, but know that Professor McGonagall or myself are always be available to you if you ever need to discuss anything. That is whether it's related to your relatives or otherwise, do you understand?"

Harry blinked in surprise at the last addendum but smiled slightly at the offer, "thank you ma'am, I will. And… thank you to the rest of you, I don't know if I showed it but I do… appreciate that you were all worried about me," he added with a soft smile in Mrs. Weasley's direction. In the past (and now) he found his best friend's mum rather overbearing in her affection for him, but he could not deny that it meant a great deal to him that she cared that much about him.

Harry gave one last look in Ron's direction, carefully avoiding Hermione's gaze for the moment as he wasn't quite sure how he felt about her betrayal of his confidences and slipped out of the room. It was barely past ten and yet Harry felt exhausted, he was looking forward to pulling the curtains around his bed and cutting off the rest of the world, if only for a few hours.

 **A/N: Whew longest chapter ever but I really wanted to cover Harry's feelings about the Dursleys in detail. This was actually one of the first things that I wrote for this story and would love to hear what you thought about it since I'm sure some people were either surprised or unhappy with the way it went.**

 **Couple of things:**

 ****One- to be clear I am in NO way advocating that children should stay with abusive parents or guardians and yes under usual circumstances Harry should be removed. This is fiction and not reality. The only reason he is not jumping to be removed from their care is the fact that this story is assuming that the blood protection from Lily is actually working to some degree- not perfectly obviously but it did prevent more skilled Death Eaters from attacking- and because the Ministry at this time is considered a bigger threat than Vernon.**

 **Two- Nor am I against getting needed counselling. The reason why I included the offer of counselling and Harry refusing is that everything I've read from canon makes me believe that Harry is able to put the Dursleys behind him. The fact that he shakes Dudley's hand in Book 7 to me shows closure. There are so many fics that depict this deep seated trauma that Harry experienced during his childhood but not everyone that has a terrible childhood is affected the same way. Obviously Harry was affected by the Dursleys, we are all affected by our upbringing, but that doesn't necessarily mean that he needs counselling to sort it out. If anything I would argue that Harry needed to speak to someone more after the Tri-Wizard Tournament than about the Dursleys.**

 **I admit I also felt the need to point out another fanfic troupe- the idea that Harry hides his home life like a dirty secret. To me it seems that Harry is almost surprisingly open about his childhood. In book 1 even Draco teases Harry about not being wanted at home and in book 2 people that Harry barely knows seemed informed enough to know that Harry hates staying with his relatives. There are several instances where Order members seem to know how Harry is treated (smuggling him out of the house, showing up the train station, Lupin's lack of reaction when Harry literally asks if he has to return) so I have never understood the widely used plot point of asking Harry to finally talk about the Dursleys when he's been complaining about them for years.**

 **Three- While Hermione was right to go to a teacher about her belief that Harry was unsafe at home, ambushing him in a room with everyone that he knows and demanding that he tell them all potentially traumatizing information I believe to be a terrible idea. This is a conversation that should have occurred between Harry, McGonagall and possibly Madame Pomfrey but my take is that McGonagall is a bit of a throwback to an older generation that is not very well versed in counselling or speaking about your problems. This is evidenced by the fact in the books that in spite of being his Head of House and supposedly in charge of his well-being both physical and mental, McGonagall never meets with Harry to discuss anything outside of school work. Second and Fourth Year she must have known the school turned against him and yet felt no need to get involved, never spoke to him after the Tri-Wizard Tournament and aside from quickly warning him to keep his head down with Umbridge never spoke to him about his problems in Fifth Year. I don't think that McGonagall doesn't care- in fact I really think Harry is one of her favorite students- but she is perpetually stuck on the idea that a teacher/student relationship is best with professional distance. After some reflection on her part (in my story) she decides that she should be more involved and overcompensates by staging what is essentially an intervention.**

 **Four- Also to be clear when Sirius tells Harry that he should tell the Order, Harry should have done it. By not saying anything because he wants to be seen as an adult it is (ironically) proving the opposite, but again Harry is 15 and does not have all the answers. This conversation was also a year earlier than 'present' Harry. Remember Harry was very angry with the Order at the start of OOTP and it makes him stubborn to ask for their help. Sirius on the other hand did not say anything because he knows as another victim of abuse that it's very important for Harry to be able to trust someone and Sirius was not willing to sacrifice that trust. However, this discussion is part of the motivation for Sirius to emancipate Harry as well as secure him a solicitor that would look out for his interests, so although it may appear that Sirius was either ignoring the problem or allowing Harry to back the Dursleys the man had a plan.**


	20. Capture the Dragon

**Chapter 20: Capture the Dragon**

Harry awoke feeling worn and groggy the next the morning, as though his head had been knocked about with a bludger. The emotional confrontation he had had the night before had left him feeling overwrought and drained. This was particularly frustrating because only last week had he finally recovered from the poison in his system and been given the all clear from Madame Pomfrey to be allowed to 'participate in all of your usual dangerous activities.' The only remaining side-effect seemed to be the new sensation of feeling the emotions of everyone in Voldemort's presence. An experience he had suffered two other times and had been just as disconcerting as the first time.

After everything that had happened, last night all he had wanted was to go back to his bed and sleep but fate had not been on his side and he had tossed and turned until the wee hours of the morning. He was grateful that Ron had at least taken the hint by his drawn curtains and had not attempted to speak with him about the meeting when the red-head had returned. He wasn't angry, not much at least, with his friends, he knew that they had only done what they thought was in his best interest, but he was also sick of discussing the minutia of his life at the Dursleys.

"Harry, you up? We're gonna be late!" Dean called out, apparently noting that his curtains were still drawn.

Harry pulled the curtain back, blinking as the bright light rushed into his eyes, and seized the chance to pull himself up before he gave the idea up entirely and just laid in bed for hours. The chill of the morning air greeted him roughly and he was a rather grateful for the fact that it woke him a bit more completely. "Thanks Dean. Rough night," he admitted.

"Well I wanted to make sure that our esteemed captain was ready for today," Dean said with a grin, he glanced over his shoulder and confirmed that they were the only ones left in the room. "You reckon this plan is going to work? Or do you think we're all going to be expelled for this?" he asked raising his eyebrow slightly.

Harry shook his head but grinned. "I think it's definitely going to work. They won't see it coming and they can't expel us, we're not breaking any rules."

"Polyjuice Potion…"

"Is a controlled substance but isn't illegal. Daphne has the papers that we need from where she got it in order and we're using it in a school project… which if you remember Mandy checked and is allowed," Harry reminded him.

Dean nodded and smiled, "it is nice having Ravenclaws that are willing to look up that kind of information," he admitted ruefully.

Harry nodded his agreement but it was hard as he was currently pulling on his robes at the same time. "Where is everyone?" he called over his shoulder as he headed into the washroom to clean up a bit.

"Neville called a team meeting and I think Hermione was carrying some kind of…manifesto? Seriously Harry, that girl _is_ scary smart. Does she always prepare a novel of notes just for a scrimmage battle?"

"You've had classes with Hermione for 6 years now Dean, are you really asking that question? If anything Hermione has toned it down over the years," Harry called back into the room over the sound of running water, rolling his eyes at Dean's lack of observational skills. Current ambivalent feelings towards his best friend at the moment aside, Harry knew there was no one more solidly prepared for a school assignment and no one more frighteningly determined when she set her mind to something.

"Do you think everyone will have the chance to get in the proper positions? If we can't find their team from the start it won't work," Dean worried.

Harry shook his head, "the fact that they called a meeting is a good sign. If I thought Hermione liked procedure I never imagined how much Neville likes Tackley's policies. They'll make sure everyone knows where to go and that means splitting immediately into units for each task. They'll be easy to take down because for the immediate start we're not going anywhere even though they'll expect us to be getting into position as well. And once they lead us to right location..." Harry grinned and Dean laughed.

"Did you work out the Disillusionment Charm?" Dean asked. Harry gave a hesitant nod. This was a major crux of their plan and the part that Harry struggled with most unfortunately. The Charm was a new one for them and one that he had not caught on to well at all. He had practiced most of the previous Sunday in the Room of Requirement and two nights previous he had worked himself into a sweat until he had finally managed it. He had done it and it had been good. Very good. But he had wanted to practice more the night before the match up, however he had been waylaid by his annoying-but-well-intentione-busy- body friends.

"Everything is going to be fine," Harry said with much more confidence than he felt.

It had taken a lot of planning and more than a few arguments between Harry and the Slytherins to come up with a workable plan but they had finally worked out a way to make it look as though they had seemingly fallen into one of the Auror's classic containment situations. Once Neville's team moved in to grab them, Harry's team would be ready.

If Harry was being honest, he was not quite as certain about his plan to outsmart his clever friend as he had tried to appear to his group. The last couple of weeks Harry had been meeting with his team regularly, not only going over their plans but trying to catch them up on everything his group had failed to learn in the past. As it turned out they had had a lot of catching up to do. Harry had spent months training the D.A. and he had almost forgotten how so few of them had even known how to stun or produce a shield charm. Which meant that Harry had had roughly two weeks to get his team up to a level of those that had been practicing for half a year. Some had been better than others, Nott for example was eerily good at curses and Harry couldn't say he was comforted by this at all.

He had been surprised by the fact that so many Purebloods had not gone attended the Ministry class. For muggleborns it was difficult to accommodate the travel over the summer and only families like the Finch-Fletchleys were completely undisturbed by the cost. He would have thought that it would have been a show of status for Purebloods to attend the class. However, Wizarding politics were subtle and Harry had discovered that families like the Brocklehursts and Greengrasses did not like even the appearance of considering siding against anyone. Martell Greengrass and his family had weathered the last war by remaining perfectly neutral and he seemed intent on maintaining that position. Aside from the political implications, Harry had also gleaned through a few snide comments that for girls like Mandy, Daphne, Tracy and Meagan Jones their families found a Defense class more suited for 'young men' than for their daughters. Harry had said nothing but couldn't help but feel this was the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard and hoped that he ever had a daughter she would one day become a spectacular dueler.

The accelerated pace of his team's training was only made more difficult by the fact that unlike the D.A., his teammates did not trust or like him and the first two meetings he had been met with the same kind of skepticism that Zacharias Smith had leveled at him. But he had stuck with it and over the last couple of weeks he had worked hard enough that he was beginning to feel that at least a good portion of them respected what he could contribute, if only begrudgingly.

And the feelings were actually returned. If not for their uncertain loyalties, Harry was even beginning to gain a bit of respect for some people he would least expected. Daphne had shown that she could be a force to be reckoned with, and one that could leave devastation in her wake without letting on to anyone that she had been cause. The previous year in the D.A., Dean had shown Harry that he possessed a steely persistence that kept him going in any fight- even when it became obvious that he had lost. Mandy Brocklehurst was brilliant, almost as smart as Hermione, she was the envy of Ravenclaw with her ability to recall obscure passages that she had read. Tracy Davis had a wicked tongue and was able to convince just about anyone to do something before they even realized what they had agreed to.

And then there was Theodore Nott- who Harry didn't know what to make of. His father was a Death Eater, one of the ones that had been in the graveyard on the night of Voldemort's return, but unlike Crabbe and Goyle, Nott had never seemed particularly interested in needless cruelty. Nor was he selfish and demanding as Draco could be, solely intent on showing everyone that he was better than them simply because of his family name. He was quiet until he had something to say. Harry suspected that Nott was a keener observer of people than most others seemed to realize. Harry had a feeling that he was often underestimated and very much preferred it that way. He was a person that could make a great ally or an even bigger threat and the fact that Harry was completely uncertain of where his loyalties laid in the war worried him. Most of his classmates were worried about this little scrimmage battle as nothing more than a class project but for Harry it was much more, the meetings that he had had with his group had been interesting and for the first time in his life Harry was beginning to wonder if he had the ability to influence what his classmates would do in the next months and years as the war escalated.

Harry was almost certain that Nott, in true Slytherin fashion, was biding his time for the moment. Playing on the fact that he was still in school and therefore did not need to become a Death Eater…yet. Malfoy, impatient and immature, had rushed into his father's place. Nott was waiting to see what the smartest course of action was. It was cowardly and self-serving and there was a very large- very childish- part of Harry that wanted to tell Nott that if he didn't care about actually being on the right side of things than he should just sign up to kiss Voldemort's robes and be done with it. But Harry knew that he needed to be smarter than that. He needed to think about what could happen if he drove more willing fighters into the arms of the enemy.

Harry knew that it was beyond foolish to think that the son of a Death Eater, a boy that clearly only cared about himself, would suddenly side against his father simply because Harry did well in a school project. Or was nice to him. But he also didn't think it could hurt.

 **Hermione's POV:**

"So everyone remembers their position?" Neville asked tersely. Hermione could see that her fellow Gryffindor was stressed. She also knew that, like herself, a lot of their classmates had been incredibly surprised when Neville had volunteered to be their team leader. Neville had always been the quiet one. The more easily forgotten of their classmates if they were being honest with themselves. But the trip to the Department of Mysteries had changed him. While their little adventure had been traumatizing and horrific for Harry, teaching him a harsh lesson in caution- it had given Neville a confidence that he had never had before. His magic had been stronger this year as well. Hermione knew this was an effect of the burst in confidence that he had had, although Harry insisted that it also had to do with the fact that Neville was no longer using a borrowed wand and instead one that was matched to him. Hermione didn't believe that, wands were only tools to channel magic through and nothing more but Harry insisted that his own wand was made for him in a way that no other wand was and he felt it only stood to reason that each person had the same relationship with their wands that he did.

Hermione smiled at Neville and their teammates before saying confidently, "we've followed the Ministry protocol, our plan has been successful for decades, there's no way that the other team can beat us."

Malfoy grumbled again under his breath and Hermione glared at him. Draco Malfoy- with a highly unlikely and _extremely_ reluctant alliance with Ron of all people- were the only two against the plans that she and Neville had made. The two team leaders had poured over the Auror Handbook and had thought of every eventuality. The Aurors planned for ambushes that were both overt and through stealth. They described what to do when surrounded and how to detect hidden enemies. Any plan that Harry and his team came up with, Hermione knew that they had a countermeasure for, and that was what she intended to do. Harry was brilliant in defense in many ways but he suffered from an extreme lack of patience. He would strike first and she intended to have her team react to the situation that he had made and then move in and contain it.

"I still say that basing every scenario off of the same manual that they have is stupid," Malfoy argued. "You really think Potter and Greengrass are that moronic? Because at the very least Nott isn't. I said it before, we should have been thinking about how they would get around these 'protocols'." In the beginning of the year Malfoy had been unusually quiet and withdrawn but in the past couple weeks, since his father's escape from prison, their consummate rival had gotten much of his former swagger back and Hermione felt that he had taken a great amount of pleasure in deriding all of their plans.

Ron's jaw was working furiously and Hermione could see his inner struggle. He agreed with Malfoy but he refused to say it. His hatred of the blond Slytherin was much greater than his need to outperform his best mate's team in a school assignment. The only reason that Hermione knew that Ron agreed so vehemently is because he had pushed forward his own- extremely…original- ideas in previous meetings but both Hermione and Neville had decided to go with tested and true methods made by skilled Aurors rather than improvisation from an inexperienced fighter. Tackley herself had stressed the importance of discipline and using tried and true methods and Neville had begun seeing her for private lessons much as Harry had once done with Professor Lupin.

"We've already been through this. Tackley told us over and over again that she doesn't mark for creativity but for accuracy. She wants us to follow the book."

"Actually," Ernie corrected, "she wants us to capture their statue and guard ours but," and here he shot a rather apologetic glance at his Ron who was his partner for their 6th Year Projects and perhaps felt disloyal for speaking out against, "I still agree with Hermione and Neville. These protocols have been used for generations, there's no possible way that Potter could have worked around them."

The argument was put to rest and the group made its last minute preparations. Hermione couldn't help feeling a bit giddy at their plans. She knew that she had followed the proper procedures perfectly and that she had arranged for any kind of plan that Harry would come up with.

There was also the advantage that she had of knowing Harry too well. Harry would place himself in the center of whatever plan he had for capturing their statue and if they could take out Harry, they could take out the rest easily. The type of strategy he used limited the scenarios possible which made planning much easier. Step 23: Base your strategy around your opponent. The fact that Harry was sure to be their main source of competition only helped them, it was a classic 'cutting the head of the snake' strategy.

The meeting broke up just before class and Hermione headed to Defense feeling just a flash of anxiety that was unrelated to their upcoming assignment. She had been disappointed when Harry had not even looked at her after the meeting the night before and just that morning Ron had informed her that Harry had drawn the curtains and gone to sleep before he had even made it back to the dorm.

Ron had been tense and agitated all morning, worried that Harry would be angry with them, which in turn had made Ron upset with Hermione. He had been reluctant to get the adults involved at all but when he had finally agreed that they should say something he had wanted to limit it to their Head of House only. When they had approached McGonagall, she had informed them that such conversations were required to be had with the school nurse which Ron could understand, but when Hermione and McGonagall had insisted on including so many other adults, he had felt they had gone too far. Hermione felt, and still believed, that Harry needed to know that he had a lot of people that cared about him. He was so used to thinking he had to handle everything on his own that he failed to realize that he had people to turn to for help.

Hermione had known that Harry would likely be angry with her for going to the professors about her concerns about his relatives. He viewed it as betrayal when in reality Hermione knew that the real betrayal to her friend would have been ignoring that he had a problem. She had hoped that Harry would see things from her perspective but was not terribly surprised that he had apparently allowed his anger to get the better of him. She sighed and for the moment was grateful that it was Harry that was angry with her instead of Ron. Harry had a hot and volatile temper but he was never one to hold a grudge very long. In fact she had rarely seen Harry stay mad at someone longer than a day unless they truly deserved it. Ron on the other hand could hold grudges for as long he pleased.

She felt a twinge of added guilt that the stress of last night's meeting had to be on the night before the competition. She knew Harry well enough to know that although his anger at her would not last, his bitterness over the meeting itself would stew for a while. She knew that he had probably gotten very little sleep the night before, as Harry had never been able to get proper rest when he was worried or stressed. Although the timing couldn't be helped, she also couldn't help but feel that she had only made things more difficult for her friend by doing it before such an important project.

Harry was already in the room when Hermione arrived alongside the rest of her team. The room was only half filled before their arrival which Hermione took to mean that Harry had not called a last minute meeting as they had done. In spite of wanting to win, she couldn't help but hope that Harry had taken his role as leader of the opposing team seriously. She knew all too well that Harry relied more on luck than planning and it was usually up to her to encourage him to put the needed effort into a task.

Harry was speaking with his study partner Daphne, who was scowling as usual. Throughout their Hogwarts career, Daphne Greengrass had always been a bit of an enigma. Hermione knew that she was intelligent, usually falling right behind herself in the class ranking or Terry Boot, but she found the other girl to be supremely unpleasant. Outside of Tracy Davis and perhaps Theodore Nott, she appeared to have no real friends and she adopted a perpetual air of superiority around their peers. Harry had said little about his forced partnership with the Slytherin girl, who appeared supremely unhappy to have to work with anyone not of her direct choosing. Their first project wasn't due until the following week and she was curious to see how the two of them had had fared together. She was surprised by the sound of Harry's laughter- rich and warm as it usually was- and then further shocked when she saw that Daphne was now also smiling, if ever so slightly. It seemed as though Harry was in a better mood than she had expected today.

The class was set to start and the last minute stragglers rushed into the room.

"Alright class, I trust that you are all adequately prepared for today's test?" Tackley asked them. There was a chorus of 'yes professors' and nods of heads as the teens in the room leaned forward in their chairs with anticipation.

"Very well, I trust that you have all reviewed not only the proper procedures that you should follow but the rules that I gave you for this exercise. You will all stick to the spells that I have approved of for this assignment and anyone that uses anything else will see themselves inside of the Headmaster's office arguing why you shouldn't be expelled."

She dismissed the groups to their designated areas explaining that they each had 10 minutes to prepare their defenses and at the sound of the loud whistle, each camp could prepare their assault. Neville and Hermione quickly made their way into their pre-arranged base-camp. Each team had been instructed to find a place to hide their statue- part of the challenge was not only attacking and capturing the other team's base but to track down the hidden location in the castle. For the first time it occurred to Hermione that Harry had the unfair advantage of the Marauder's Map at his disposal. All he would need to do is search out a cluster of their names in a given spot and he would know where they had hidden their statue. She was angry with herself for never thinking to bring up the subject before- and have Harry promise not to use it.

"Ron!" she hissed, not willing yet to let everyone else on their team know of Harry's secret weapon.

"What?" he asked, a bit stiffly and she knew that he was still upset with her for dismissing his ideas as well as the events of the previous night.

"Do you think that Harry would cheat by using the Marauder's Map?" she asked him worriedly. Ron blinked in surprise and his mouth formed an 'o' as though he too had never considered the eventuality. "I didn't even think about that… its' possible…" Ron shook his head. "No Harry would probably think about it but I don't think he would do it Hermione."

"Are you sure? As winning captain he would really love to show up Tackley. You know how he feels about her," she added with disapproval. She could not understand Harry's suspicion of the Auror and it upset her that he was so determined to undermine her authority when she had shown them all that she deserved to be respected. She had been an Auror for years, she had fought against Voldemort in the First War and was doing it now, and yet Harry still didn't trust her.

Ron shook his head again, "First of all, Harry wouldn't want to show the map to a bunch of Slytherins for a school project. He would never give up the secret that easily."

"That's true…" she agreed. Harry was far more concerned about possible real attacks in the war than doing well in DADA.

"But more importantly Hermione, this is _Harry._ The same guy that told Cedric about the dragons when he could have made sure the guy didn't stand a chance and then missed out on getting first place in the Second Task because the stupid git was too worried about saving everyone. Harry's the most honest person I know- you really think that he would stoop to cheating?"

Hermione bit her lip before nodding her agreement. Ron was right, Harry may have been out to prove that he was better at Defense than Tackley was giving him credit for, but he wouldn't cheat to do it.

They had reached their destination- an abandoned classroom on the sixth floor down a deserted corridor that no one seemed to remember existed half the time. They set up their perimeter defenses. They had been practicing basic wards in class. They were not the most advanced and though they could not keep anyone out, they would alert them to when someone crossed the border. Because almost everyone on their team agreed that Harry would be the one leading the strike team, Hermione and Neville had both decided to remain defenders- feeling that they would be only ones capable of holding Harry off if it came to a proper duel. In spite of the weeks of extra training that they had received, it was clear from their practices in the classroom Harry was still the most advanced when it came to defensive spells, though Hermione had been impressed with how much progress Neville had made.

The whistle blew and Ron and Draco each led two different strike teams out in search of the statue. They had spent the week trying to do reconnaissance but Harry's team had remained as tight lipped as their own. The only thing they had to go on was Harry's personality which almost everyone agreed meant it would be in a highly defensible but prominent area. If there was one thing Harry had made clear it was the fact that he did not appreciate Tackley's unapologetic stance that his team would lose. He wanted a fight and he wanted it to be big. The most likely places were the Great Hall, the Quidditch Pitch and the Courtyard. Wide places that offered cover and height if need be so they could defend but open enough that it gave them space to properly fight. Hermione and Neville had both agreed on a more enclosed space where only so many fighters could enter. If they had to fight Harry, they didn't want to do it while surrounded- they wanted to keep numbers on their side.

Once the strike teams were gone it was strangely quiet in the corridor. Auror protocol called for them to be disillusioned while on guard, which also implied silence so as not to give away their position. Hermione mentally reviewed all of their planning.

-They had placed the object in an obsolete location that they were able to fortify with spells

-They had placed guards at every possible entry point and taken the caution to disillusion each one

\- They placed the most secure wards possible around corridor.

Hermione felt as confident as possible in the situation, though she did wish that her Disillusionment charm was able to provide them a more secure cover. The charm was difficult, they had spent the last few DADA classes working on them but only a few in the group had been able to do one at all and those few had had to use the charm on the other guards, but the charm did not provide complete invisibility. Even fully trained Aurors were only able to create a chameleon-like effect that allowed the person to blend into the background. It worked when a person was unprepared for an attack or was not specifically looking for a person, but was not ideal when someone was looking for your form.

Nearly twenty minutes passed in quiet and Hermione was beginning to grow tired of remaining in one place. She reminded herself that Tackley had told them that she used this exercise on all new recruits, usually within their first weeks at the Academy and the exercise usually took at least hour for a team to locate, attack, and return with the statue.

There was a flash and bang outside and Hermione could see out of the window into the courtyard below that they had been wrong. Harry had not gone to retrieve the statue from their team but instead seemed to be defending his own. At the moment he was dueling against both Draco and Seamus but there was something odd about how he was standing that was bothering Hermione. She couldn't quite decipher what exactly it was about the battle below that seemed strange- Harry seemed to holding his own against both boys but that was not unexpected...

There was movement to the side and a flash of spells were exchanged as more of Harry's teammates engaged in the defense. They were moving well, using spells that the D.A. and Defense class had been working on and Hermione was surprised when quite a few times a spell hit its target from seemingly nowhere. Hermione felt the coin in her pocket heat up, the signal for the other half of the strike team to converge on target 1. She waited anxiously hoping that they could hold off under Harry's spells but strangely Harry still remained completely on the defensive, his own attack spells few and more widely cast than usual. Like her own team, it seemed as though Harry had followed protocol and formed a similar perimeter and now all they had moved right into position…

Draco gave the signal and Ernie, Parvati, Terry and Susan Bones all advanced- just as Hermione had planned. She grinned to herself to see that her team had followed her directions so well. It had been hard to sort through so many different protocols. Group projects always frustrated Hermione, while _she_ had memorized all 312 battle scenarios that the Auror manual simulates, she had known that it was foolish to expect the rest of her classmates to do the same- a lesson that she had learned the hard way over the years. Tackley had then helpfully pointed out that only about 62 of the scenarios could really be used for their purposes and the major advantage- as Zambini had actually pointed out, was the fact that they knew precisely how many people the other team had as opposed to going in blind. The more information you had on an enemy the better prepared you could be.

Surprisingly it had been Ron that had suggested that she and Neville come up with the five most diverse and adjustable containment plans and train the team to recognize and execute the appropriate one once Harry's team placed themselves in the right position. And sure enough, the defenders had placed themselves directly into formation D and their team was just moving into execute Containment Strategy 42 from the Manuel- known to Hermione's team as plan 2.

"NOW!" Harry's voice shouted out from the opposite side of the courtyard that he was supposedly fighting in. Swarms of black cloaks came in from the shadows of the building, descended on broomsticks from the sky they seemed to rain down upon them, there was well over a dozen on top of the team on and ground, and two of Hermione's own people- Justin Finch-Flechley and Blaise Zambini abruptly turned on their own teammates and started to fire curses. Hermione gasped at the abrupt turnaround and was shocked to see 'Harry' running as fast as he could away from the locked door where he had been defending his statue, drawing rapid fire curses that were being staved off by a shield charm that he didn't even appear to be casting. It was chaos of the highest order and Hermione was not alone in shock as she watched her every expectation of the battle shatter. There were too many. Far more than Harry should have had on his team. It was over quickly and Harry's team had disarmed and stunned every single member of their retrieval team. They received points for each captured wand and double points for incapacitating the enemy.

"How...how did they do that?" Neville asked, clearly shocked.

Hermione shook her head, she had seen them put themselves in the perfect position for the containment... and they had reacted with the perfect position as well. There was a commotion outside of their door and Neville and Hermione readied themselves for a fight. They might have failed to get their statue but there was no way she was going to let them get theirs as well.

Padma and Pansy ran back into the room with Neville and Hermione shouting that Lavender and Crabbe were on their way up- as soon as Neville and Hermione dropped their wands to their sides at seeing their own teammates- they were disarmed. Pansy Parkinson summoned the statue running for all she was worth back to the DADA classroom. Padma kept her wand trained on the two flabbergasted opponents, giving them a sly wink. "You… but there's… you don't get points for switching sides!" Hermione yelled out in frustration. She had seen no less than four of her team members switch over to Harry's team and could not for the life of her understand how he had managed to convince them to fail such an important assignment.

"You know… it's too bad that I had to be Padma, Parvarti really does have the better fashion sense of the two, don't you think? I've been trying to get Parv to lend me her hoop earrings for a month, to think I could have had them…" she said twirling her wand idly through her fingers.

"Lavender?" Neville asked shocked, his face flushing. She grinned. "You know Hermione, I always thought that you were the brains of the operation but that Harry Potter has got same damn good ideas!"

"You…you can't use Polyjuice Potion," Neville sputtered. "It's against the rules!"

"Really?" Lavender asked sweetly, Padma's face a mask of innocence. "Because we looked and actually... it's not." There was a loud gong sound to signal the fact that whoever Pansy really was had successfully gotten the statue back. "Well I guess that's it. I'll give you back your wands when he get to the classroom- you know we get more points for every captured wand and all," Lavender explained not without apology for keeping hold of their wands. Hermione was fuming. It was impossible. She had read and re-read the manual and there had been no mention of the way Harry's team had surrounded her own.

They reached the classroom at the same time as a number of people that shouldn't have existed. There were three Harrys. Two Pansys, two Padmas, two Justins and two Blaises.

"Course record. Not bad Golden Boy. And that was a wicked shield you were able to keep up to protect Goyle," "Blaise" said to the Harry that was standing next to Daphne.

"Nice work with the stunners. They never saw it coming," Harry responded, clapping together a high-five type handshake.

"That _was_ actually fun," Sophia McKinnon, a seventh year Hufflepuff admitted as she took down her dark hood, reaching out her hand to shake Harry's.

"Thanks for all of your help," Harry said, taking her hand but nodding at the assembled crowd of additional help that he had received from all four Houses of the senior class. Hermione noted that although there were quite a few present, it was not all of them and no one that Harry would have suspected of even supporting a Death Eater had been invited.

"Daphne… that was pretty brilliant to use Harry as a decoy and have him cast shields from under the disillusionment shield," Hannah Abbot admitted, looking as though she had been reluctant to go along with this plan. "And Harry... that was a great disillusionment, I could hardly see you at all when I looked."

Harry grinned back, "thank, took me about four hours the other night to work it out. Last time I worked that hard to learn a charm so fast it was to get away from a dragon!" Harry laughed and several of his team members laughed with giddy excitement over their win.

"That wasn't even you out by the Quidditch Pitch, was it?" Ron demanded his expression caught between annoyance and respect.

Harry shook his head, "sorry mate. We weren't sure where you all would start off but I figured there would be two teams taking opposite sides of the castle so we placed a decoy in two different spots. Best to keep your team as spread out as possible, you know," Harry added with a wink.

"What in the world were you all thinking?" Tackley demanded striding into the room, her cloak billowing behind her in Snape-like anger. "Polyjuice Potion? Not to mention the _slight_ detail that you somehow had twice as many people than you should have had."

"We have the paperwork for the Polyjuice Potion right here, Professor," Daphne cut in assertively. "And if you look in the school charter there is no rule against possessing or using the potion as long as it relates directly to a school project."

"And you said that we should treat the battle as if it were 'real life situation', well in real life, wouldn't you get as many people as you could to fight with you?" Harry asked unable to conceal his grin. "There was no rule against recruiting outside help, everyone here had a Free Period."

"No one said that we were allowed to get the Seventh Years to help us!" Seamus called out angrily.

Tracy Davis smirked at them all, her blond ponytail bouncing as she spoke. "And no one said that we couldn't. You all decided to use the same plans the Ministry have been using for years, Potter knew enough to use that against you."

Harry was looking at Tackley with open defiance and she was scowling back at him with ill-concealed temper. She had been training Aurors for longer than any of them had been alive and it was no secret at that moment that she was upset that her favored team had not only lost the competition but had lost badly.

"You gave each team the same manual, why would we use a plan that we know they can counter?"

"I told you!" Ron hissed to Hermione none too quietly. They were surprised by a loud groan from the other team.

"That's right, you all better pay up later," Harry said, not bothering to lower his voice.

"What?" Neville asked, his eyes narrowed. He had been quiet in their defeat but Hermione could see that their team leader was taking their resounding defeat hard.

Harry shot Hermione a rather apologetic look that surprised her, she had thought that Harry would be too angry with her about the meeting last night to even spare her the courtesy. He looked embarrassed for a moment before Nott saved him by speaking. "We all thought that we needed to worry about Granger coming up with a better plan than us but Potter swore up and down that the person we should worry about was Weasley."

"Except that we really didn't need to worry too much because Potter was sure that Longbottom and Granger would never listen to him," Tracy Davis shot out slyly.

Harry shot her a furious look, "Oi! That is NOT what I said but… I did say that Ron was the one that would come up with the best strategy."

"And no one listened to me!" Ron called out, face red with indignation.

"Actually…" Malfoy drawled but as he made eye-contact with Ron, he seemed to think that he would rather assume that he too had fallen for the trick of settling for the Ministry plans rather than be seen caught agreeing with a member of the Weasley family.

Tackley was glaring down at the lot of them. "Potter! I'm not entirely sure what you were attempting to prove. You have been undermining the methods and the plans of the Ministry from the first day of class and now you are leading half of your classmates into dangerous situations without stopping to consider how many things could have gone wrong. There is a reason why we train in a very specific way. I have been training Aurors for years and I would remind you all that you are not the first batch of new recruits to think that you have better ideas. Inexperience breeds arrogance. And arrogance will lead to mistakes every time. You were lucky Potter. You were in a controlled situation that didn't allow for the fact that real enemy combatants would be throwing deadly curses and not stunners that you could deflect off of a movable shield. Your decoy plan was foolish. If there had any more opponents how did you intend to maintain such a shield?"

Hermione could see Harry's temper wearing down and hoped that he did not cause a scene as he would have the previous year in Umbridge's class. She could understand why Harry was frustrated. Even she had to admit that they had come up with a brilliant plan. She had been so convinced that the Ministry trainers had seen every scenario possible that she had not given real consideration to going around their ideas. When Ron had suggested it, she had thought that he was being foolish, not because Harry wouldn't try something out of the box- she knew for a fact that he probably would- but because she was so certain that if he tried the Ministry strategies would beat him, but the speed with which Harry's team had won had humbled her.

Harry drew himself up to his full height, an action thankfully slightly more impressive than it had been in past years when he had always been among the shortest in the class and leveled the professor with a steely gaze. "I knew what to expect because you told us all of their plans. Hermione and Neville used Containment Strategy 42- it was right out of the book. So I knew what to expect, and you told us that 'when you know what to expect, you know how to plan'."

Tackley flushed at having her own words thrown back in her face but did not back down. Hermione knew that the professor was surprised that Harry knew the strategies well enough to recognize them immediately, but she knew better. Harry had always had a remarkable memory for things that interested him or he found useful. It was theory or background information that he struggled with, mostly because he had never understood why they would be relevant to him. "And what about the fact that you seemingly laid an ambush right in front of your statue? What if it had been broken by a loose spell? You do realize that the point of the exercise was to simulate _protecting_ something that could not afford to be lost? " Tackley pressed.

Harry grinned, "that couldn't have happened because our statue wasn't there."

"You mean it was by the Quidditch Pitch the whole time? We sent everyone after Malfoy's unit!" Ron yelled out in frustration.

"Oh you mean with the coins?" Harry asked archly.

"How?..." Hermione asked thoroughly taken aback.

Harry rolled his eyes impatiently, "come on Hermione, you really don't think I would know that you would use those to pass messages. We did the same thing," he added, pulling out his own golden coin and flicked it up with his thumb and catching it as it spun.

"You learned how to do the Protean Charm?" she asked surprised.

Harry laughed as his team grinned, "No, but I am good at finding other people that are better at magic than me. Mandy worked it out, made sure we knew where to send the Seventh Years once your team attacked. Even on brooms they needed to get in position. And to answer your question mate," Harry added turning to Ron, his grin impossibly wide. "Both of those sights were decoys."

"The real statue was in Professor Snape's room the whole time," Lavender called out chuckling.

"In SNAPE's room? Are you mad?" Seamus asked.

"Possibly, it's been suggested before," Harry shot back drily, no doubt recalling Seamus' own words at the beginning of their Fifth Year, "but more importantly we knew that you lot would have to be mad to try and go storming in their while he was teaching to try and get it. We didn't even need a guard."

"Is that allowed? Putting the statue where we can't even get it?" Neville asked, sounding exasperated.

"No, it isn't," Tackley answered, eyes narrowed on Harry in reproach.

"Why not? You said to protect the statue at all costs. Wouldn't the _Ministry_ place something in its protection in a place that no one could get it?" Harry asked, his tone a clear challenge.

Tackley pursed her lips as she seemingly weighed her options. In the end she had little choice. "Mr. Potter's team is the victor and it should be said that he and his team did an admirable job at the task. They were creative, efficient, and well organized. However, as the captain of a team that seemingly went out of its way to undercut the point of the exercise and cast aspersions on the fitness of the Ministry in a time of war, Mr. Potter will also serve a week of detentions. Before you argue the fairness of this Mr. Potter allow me to be clear- there are two things that I do not tolerate. Attempts at usurpation and recruits that are too arrogant to learn from their superiors. I have held my proper place for 37 years at the Ministry and I will teach you yours."

Harry's eyes narrowed but he said nothing. However, Hermione saw his lip curl just a fraction and for a moment she had the idea that Harry was oddly satisfied that the professor had reacted to his challenge of her authority. He had, after all, cemented his place as leader forever in the minds of his team.

"Class dismissed."

The final remnants of the PolyJuice had faded in Harry's teammates and it was an unadorned Theodore Nott that approached Harry first. "Tough break Potter. I reckon you have her well spotted after all."

"Well I suppose we'll see soon enough," Harry said stiffly.

Nott paused as though thinking over what he wanted to say. "I knew you would be a good fighter Potter, its why I nominated you as captain in the first place but…" it seemed to cost him something to say this but with a frankness that was most unbecoming of a Slytherin he said, "you're not a bad leader either, Potter. Daphne," he grinned as though sharing an inside joke, "she doesn't mind working with you."

Harry caught Hermione off guard when he laughed, "well from Daph that's just about the best compliment I could ask for. And I should say thanks. You and Daphne really helped pull this thing together."

Nott grinned, "I didn't know you were so sneaky Potter."

Harry, conversely, turned almost deadly serious. "Well…Tackley wanted us to act like we were at war… I don't plan to lose in a war."

Nott only nodded and stepped away, his expression sobering and his shoulders tensing slightly. He walked away quietly but deep in thought.

"What the bloody hell was that about Harry? You do know his father is a Death Eater, don't you?" Ron asked turning to face Harry, his expression suddenly livid.

Harry's eyes darkened but when he spoke he wasn't angry, he was…haunted, was the best word that Hermione had to describe it. "I remember who was in the graveyard the night that Cedric died, Ron. I won't ever forget that night. I know who his father is…I'm just not sure Theo is the same as is father. Or at least not yet anyway."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Weren't you the one that was trying to convince us all that Malfoy was a full-fledged Death Eater? Why do you think that Nott is any different? They're Slytherins Harry. I might not agree that Draco Malfoy has the mark yet, but they're all…evil."

"Ron," Hermione huffed impatiently but was interrupted by Harry.

"Malfoy is different. He's angry about what happened to his father and… you didn't see him before that werewolf attack. He was planning something and Snape was helping him."

"Dumbledore already explained all of that Harry."

"Oh well then, I _must_ be wrong because Dumbledore _never_ is," Harry shot back his eyes flashing and color rising in his cheeks.

"Haven't you stopped to consider the fact that Dumbledore must know something that we don't for him to trust Snape as much as he does?" Hermione asked with exasperation. She was tired of having the same arguments with Harry again and again. His mistrust of Snape and Malfoy had turned into an obsession and no matter how many people had tried to talk him out of it, he only dug in harder.

Harry shot her a look that stated plainly that he found her question ridiculous. "Of course I have Hermione. But the point is, I'm not willing to trust Snape…or anyone for that matter just because Dumbledore says that I should. I don't care that he's older than me, I don't care that he knows more than I do. I don't even care that he's smarter than me. Look Hermione," Harry sighed and all at once he appeared tired as he ran his hand distractedly through his hair. "I know you don't understand it but I trust my judgement over the word of someone else. Anyone else. It's not that I don't trust Dumbledore and it's not that I think that he's stupid, because I know that he's not, but for whatever reason he refuses to tell me why he trusts Snape and…until I have a reason to trust a man that has given me every reason in the world to hate him…I can't. No matter who says that I should. I'm sure that Dumbledore has his reasons, but he hasn't taken the time to share them with me and until he has, I really can't trust what I don't know. "

Hermione let out a breath of frustration, forcing herself to accept that when Harry truly made up his mind there was no changing it. It bothered her that she couldn't come up with a reasonable argument against his logic. Dumbledore was the most brilliant wizard in the world if he trusted Snape, Hermione knew he must have a reason but at the same time if the reason was so good why was it a secret?

"But you don't think that Nott is a Death Eater in training?" Ron asked skeptically.

Harry paused and rubbed his face tiredly. She could see the strain under his eyes and remembered her earlier suspicions that Harry would not have slept the night before. "I don't know about Nott," Harry admitted. "I might be wrong but it just seems like… like he's trying to figure out which side he wants to join."

"You mean he wants to wait on the sidelines like a good little Slytherin until he has a better idea of who's going to win," Ron clarified bitterly.

Harry shrugged. "Yeah, I think so."

"And you're alright with that?" Ron asked in surprise. Hermione's own brow rose. She found the idea of waiting on the sidelines of the war almost worse than the actual Death Eaters. _Almost_ of course. As horrible as they were, at least they actually believed in what they were doing. These people were merely opportunists that were too cowardly to take a stand on anything. They had no beliefs other than their own survival and cared for nothing other than themselves. One of her mother's favorite books was War and Peace and she had been taught from an early age that _all it takes for evil to triumph is for good men to nothing_. And those that did not fight against Voldemort were guilt of that.

Harry shook his head and his shoulders hunched inwardly slightly, he looked older than them. He leaned back against the stone wall of the corridor and he sounded almost defeated as he said, "No, not really. But… I'm also smart enough to realize that my high morals alone aren't going to gain us any allies. Personally people like Daphne, and possibly Nott if I'm right about him, who like to stay neutral until they're sure they can win or at least have something to gain make me sick. But then I have to ask myself, what if I push them away and they join Voldemort and then… they eventually kill someone on our side? There are a lot of people that assume I'm arrogant but I'm not proud enough to push away people that might actually help us win against Voldemort."

Ron's eyes widened and he looked surprised, "er…wow Harry. I hadn't thought of it like that."

Hermione nodded, "that is really clever Harry," she said quietly.

Harry only shrugged and pushed himself off of the wall to resume walking. "Ah well, I figure it can't hurt to be civil to them. And… actually you'd be surprised. The first couple of meetings were rough but after a while, I really started to like my team. Minus Crabbe and Goyle of course. Honestly, I'm sure those two are going to side with Voldemort and I think I might actually be happy about it. Let him hurt their side a bit. Merlin!"

Ron chuckled and Hermione smiled a bit holding back the urge to scold him for even joking about anyone joining Voldemort. They continued down the hall in silence for a minute before Ron stopped and grabbed Harry by the shoulder, pulling him to a stop. "Harry mate, wait up for a minute. Er… I wanted to talk to you about last night…"

Hermione sucked in a startled breath, surprised at Ron for bringing it up. Ron and Harry both had a tendency to let unpleasant things lie undiscussed for as long as possible. She had assumed that she would have to be the one that would eventually have to talk to Harry about what they had done and what had been said during the meeting.

She was further surprised when Harry gave a tight but tired smile. There was anything but friendliness in it but there also was a strain of politeness. "Do we really have to? I thought we kind of said it all last night."

"No, I wanted… I'm sorry Harry. For telling them things that you wanted to stay private, for getting everyone involved like my parents…"

"Ron! They needed to know!" Hermione insisted stubbornly. She did not want to cause Harry pain or embarrassment and she knew that he would not want so many people to know his private business but there were some secrets that should not be kept. She did not regret what she had done and was upset that Ron was telling Harry that they were in the wrong. Harry needed to see that they had gone to the adults because they cared about him and they needed their help.

Harry shot her a look that showed that he plainly disagreed with her statement but instead of arguing he gave another sigh. "I know why you did it. And even though I wish everyone didn't feel the need to have a giant party for the occasion so that they could all hear the details… I do appreciate that they all cared enough to come all the way to Hogwarts just to talk to me." He said it grudgingly, as though he was trying to remind himself that he should be feeling grateful rather than angry.

"Then you're not angry at us?" Hermione asked in spite of herself.

"Oh I wouldn't say that," Harry countered quietly. "I trust the two of you more than anyone else. When I tell you something I expect it to stay between the three of us. At the very least you could have just gone to McGonagall and been done with it. How you would feel if I got everyone you know in a room and told you that you should feel horrible about the fact that people that are supposed to care about you actually hate you?"

"That wasn't..." Hermione stuttered aghast.

"Really? Because that's pretty much what I took away from it. The Dursleys treated me like shit for 15 years and now I must be really screwed up because despite you all knowing me for years, none that matters now that you know that _one_ thing."

"Harry... we just wanted to let you know that we care about you and that they were wrong."

Harry shook his head and seemed to struggle with what he was trying to say. He let out a great puff of air and seemed to think a moment before he spoke. "I can understand you guys wanting to help me if you think I'm in trouble but I thought that you guys knew me well enough to know when I can handle things on my own. Last night… it felt like you didn't think I was… like you thought I was broken or something and you all needed to fix me." Harry bit lip and looked away, his neck turning red with the admission.

Hermione winced, hating that Harry had taken their actions that way and knowing how hard it was for him to admit to feeling so insecure. "That wasn't it at all Harry. We don't think that you're broken!" Hermione protested.

"Yeah mate, we didn't tell McGonagall about the Dursleys because we think you're like nutters or something we just… well… its what you do, right? When your mate is in trouble, you get them help. Even if they don't really want it," Ron finished weakly.

Harry blinked and a slow smile came across his face. "yeah you do," he agreed quietly. "I…" He cleared his throat and looked uncomfortable as he said. "Growing up with the Dursleys… it was pretty miserable but the one thing I really learned from them is how to take care of myself. Honestly, I really did…but sometimes I do have to remember that other people can help too so… I guess I should say... thank you."

Hermione threw her arms around his neck, relieved that he hadn't turned against them because he was angry or upset about what they had done. Harry patted her back before adding, "mind you if you ever do something like that to me again I don't know if I'll forgive you. You're _my_ friends, you keep my secrets and you trust me, do you understand?" The two of them nodded quickly.

"So what did they say about me after I left?" Harry asked Ron with a grin.

Hermione sputtered, "how… I mean… why do you think they said anything after you left?" her voice sounding unnaturally high to her own ears.

Harry rolled his eyes. "C'mon Hermione I'm not an idiot. You think I really expected everyone to come all that way, find out that my uncle really did knock me around but I don't want to press charges or talk about it and everyone just shrugged and went home?"

"Well personally I think Lupin and Shacklebolt are going to try and get revenge," Ron said, a bit of relish in his voice. Harry groaned. "I really wish everyone would just leave it."

"I don't think they'll do anything terrible Harry but I think you should know that McGonagall said that she will be talking to you again. And I think Madame Pomfrey is going to as well," Harry shot her a look and Hermione knew that she had sounded a bit too satisfied for Harry's liking.

She inwardly berated herself. Hermione was not oblivious to her own faults. She knew that she could be bossy and was perfectly aware that no one would ever describe her as a 'fun' person. She liked rules to much for a normal 17 year old girl and was far more concerned with doing well in school and preparing for the future than worrying about being popular. She was the girl that paid for too much attention in class. Too much attention to authority. Too much attention on doing the 'right' thing for her to be considered fun. But at the same time she valued her friends deeply and no one more so than Harry and Ron. She loved that she knew that they would always defend her and she would do anything for the two of them.

Harry seemed to read something in her guilty expression because he sighed and put his arm around her shoulders. "Yeah I expect they will be. And Hermione?"

"Yeah Harry?"

"Thanks...for looking out for me. For what it's worth, I wish I had someone like you when I was a kid. No one else seemed to give a damn and if I'm being honest it made it hard sometimes to remember that I didn't deserve to be treated like that. But you need to know that I don't have to remind myself about that anymore, right?" Harry asked quietly and Hermione nodded. She could hear all the things that Harry didn't want to say. Perhaps couldn't say and she knew that subject was going to be closed between them for a quite a while.

He was more angry than he was letting on, she could tell that by his stiff posture and the fact that his voice was just a bit rougher than usual but he cared about them. About their friendship, probably more than anything else in his life and he wasn't going to throw that away for her faults no matter how they hurt him and the fact that he might be more worried about their friendship than the Dursleys was both sweet and rather sad. Still, for the first time Hermione felt that everything would be alright. Perhaps everything had already been said and for once she hadn't been paying attention.

 **Staff Meeting: Albus Dumbledore**

Albus sighed as he sat down at his desk and prepared to meet with his staff for their monthly meeting. He had had another late night with the Ministry and he was beginning to feel that men over a hundred years of age should not be in charge of a school, multiple government positions and leading a war effort- it was exhausting.

He was just digging around in his desk for a Mars bar that he was absolutely certain was waiting for him when the door opened and his teachers started spilling in. Albus inwardly sighed, perhaps he had eaten the candy bar the day before. That past summer Albus had celebrated his 115th year and he in his vast experience in the world he could say with some authority that there were few disappointments in life larger than looking forward to a favored treat only to discover it missing.

As the teachers came in it was clear that they were already in mid-conversation and it came as no surprise at all what they were discussing.

"Twenty five minutes Aurora? I've never heard of your little challenge being completed so quickly. Perhaps it was the change in venue that disrupted it?" Minerva asked the former Auror with false innocence. Albus was caught between wanting to smile and sigh. Few people could get under a person's skin with a few well-chosen words better than Minerva McGonagall, further proof that one's House did not dictate a person's full range of skills.

"It was a creative effort," Aurora admitted, her tone dripping with her disapproval. "One that is quite successful when used against amateur efforts of our policies," she added, implying that the same plan would have been less than ideal in a real life situation with real Aurors.

"I would not disparage your own efforts so roughly Aurora," Severus chimed in, his own tone dripping with apparent sympathy, "from what I understand, you have been most effective in training your class as though they were First Year Aurors. I'm sure they executed your strategies to their fullest potential."

"Very impressive demonstration, Aurora," Pomona jumped in quickly, this time with actual sincerity with the compliment. "I haven't seen my Hufflepuffs this excited about a Defense class in a very long time. Both teams worked very hard, you should be proud of them."

"Yes," Filius added, "I was delighted to see Mr. Longbottom take up such a prominent role, I always felt he had untapped potential."

"Yes, I happen to know that for some time his grandmother was a bit concerned about his magical ability and skills but from what I have seen Neville has really come into himself in the past few months. Augusta has been thrilled with his progress and has worked to help him advance. Neville even asked me to continue with extra lessons this year. It's an initiative that I wish more students were willing to take," Aurora added a rather briskly.

"It is always wonderful when a student shows particular interest in our subject, isn't it?" Filius asked with enthusiasm.

"I agree, I only wish that more students were willing to ask for help when they feel they need it. Neville has shown a remarkable skill for Herbology and he has also taken the time to spend additional time with me during some of his free periods. I think he has a very bright future in front of him."

There were a few nods and a snort of disbelief from Severus but the Potion's Master held his tongue for once before Filius continued once more, "But back to our original point, Aurora I can't express how impressed I was with Mr. Potter. I happened to have him in class today and after hearing about his team's success I had the opportunity to see his Disillusionment Charm, I must say Albus that barring yourself I have not seen another so remarkable. He was quite nearly invisible."

"And you should be proud Severus," Pomona added looking rather amused, "My students were alternately singing his praises or cursing his name for some of the tricks that he pulled. From what I gather Miss Greengrass, Mr. Nott and Miss Davis helped quite a bit but Potter not only came up with the idea of recruiting outside help but the Polyjuice was his idea as well. I believe it was Daphne that urged the use of a distraction but the method was his. I know you have often criticized him for his lack of forethought and planning but clearly he is growing up."

Albus smiled, proud but not surprised by Harry's success. The boy was powerful, more so than most realized and Albus suspected that he was only just now coming into himself. There were few students that possessed the raw skill that Harry had and Albus was pleased to see the boy was learning to use his mind tactically as well. However, his skills alone were not what impressed Albus when he stopped to consider the young man that had suffered so much over the years. It was not his successes or his failures that Albus thought of when his tired mind trailed back to the growing boy that occupied so much of his thoughts, but the sheer determination that burned in his eyes. The immense dedication Harry had to doing what he thought needed to be done and doing it to the best of ability. Above all things Harry had the truly best of intentions- a simple but rare thing in this world and the reason why his heart ached when he thought of what the future might hold. Of course he could not be certain of what he knew. There was hope...perhaps.

Minerva was still smiling smugly over in Aurora's direction, clearly proud that her one of her Gryffindor's had outwitted what was quickly becoming apparent to all but the old guard of the Auror Department, were outdated plans.

"Speaking of our illustrious Sixth Year Form, do you feel that they are prepared for their partnered assignments to be presented next week?" Albus asked. Despite the many positives in forcing the students out of their usual comfort zone when it came to school projects, he was not blind to the potential pitfalls of such alliances. Albus Dumbledore may have a staunch reputation for being dimly naïve about the goodness of man but he had seen more than enough over the years to know that the emotions of teenagers were volatile, unpredictable- but perhaps above all, far more important than adults seemed to grant them.

Filius nodded, his excitement practically contagious, "I am very much looking forward to seeing what the students have come up with Albus. They have worked extremely hard and from what little I've heard about them thus far, some of them have really out done themselves." Flitwick had been teaching for 31 years and still held an almost childlike excitement for his student's academic curiosity and success. He loved when they pushed themselves to new limits and delighted in them staying after class to ask questions of him. It was small wonder why the Ravenclaws adored him as their Head of House.

There were a few other comments about teams that seemed to be working exceptionally well together. Davis and Bones, Granger and Boot, even Weasley and MacMillian had been seen together quite a few times and seemed to be getting along well.

"Any problems?" Albus asked the others.

"Ah well I'm afraid to report that Michael Corner is quite displeased with Gregory Goyle as his partner," Filius admitted, looking uncomfortable.

Severus snorted with dry amusement but said nothing in defense of his House member. "Small wonder," he muttered.

"The only thing I would advise you to tell Mr. Corner is that everyone has hidden strengths. While Mr. Goyle may not be...academically gifted, he most assuredly has... something to offer," Albus offered, not bothering to hide his smile.

"Apparently Longbottom and Mr. Malfoy have had some difficulties, though I must say I could not imagine a stranger pair, I think even Potter and Draco would have been more expected" Severus added, his mouth curving into a frown. Albus couldn't help but admit to himself that he too had been surprised by the pairing of the two but he had learned that there many sides to everyone and perhaps both had much to learn from the other. From comments made earlier it certainly appeared that Frank and Alice's son was going through somewhat of a transitional period in his life and perhaps this was part of it. Albus could only hope that it at the end the results would be positive.

"I cannot claim that I am surprised by this development," Albus sighed, "Gryffindor and Slytherin House have shared an enmity for centuries that has only grown in recent decades. Though I am hoping that recent developments may be cause for a change. Does anyone know how our other Gryffindor/Slytherin pair is faring?"

Minerva and Severus both looked at the other as if they expected their counterpart to be better informed. When it became clear that neither was particularly sure Severus spoke, "Miss Greengrass has never enjoyed the spotlight that our resident Chosen One cannot stay out of. I have not seen the pair together but that is not surprising. I suppose the best that can be said is I have as yet heard no complaints."

Albus registered the very slight change in wording that Severus used. In the past he would have something along the lines of 'our resident Chosen One adores', the change to 'cannot stay out of' at least indicated that the cynical professor had at long last seemed to realize that Harry did not actively seek out the attention that he was given. He decided to make no mention of this slight observation lest he force the man's hand into reverting back to thinking as poorly of his student as possible. Small steps were usually more steady and sure than giant leaps in Albus' experience. Instead he merely nodded, "Minerva?"

The Gryffindor Head gave a wry snort, "Potter? Complain? Merlin forbid," she answered sarcastically and Albus took that to mean that his Deputy's little meeting the previous night had not been completed to her full satisfaction. Albus gave her a knowing look, they would discuss this later, it was not the place at the moment. Minerva gave a stiff nod, but said nothing.

The rest of the meeting continued with various concerns. Sybil was still upset that her classes were being shared with Firenze. Severus was once again turned down when he suggested that any student that failed to slice boomslang correctly as a First Year should be forced to give up the subject immediately and 'save everyone the trouble'. Aurora Sinistra still needed new telescopes after the students had damaged quite a few of them in one of their many acts of defiance against 'Headmistress' Umbridge but Albus currently lacked the funds and told her as much. There were changes that needed to be made to the prefect rotation as so many of the prefects were also on Quidditch teams and were needed for both practices and patrol.

Finally, much later than any of the staff was particularly happy with, the meeting broke up. "Minerva if you wouldn't mind staying behind a moment? And Severus if you might join us as well?"

Both remained seated in their chairs while the rest of the room emptied. Albus thought it best not create further tension by pretending that they all didn't know why they were present.

"How did your meeting with Harry go last night Minerva?"

Her lips thinned as they always did when speaking of something that she disapproved of. "I'm sure that you will be quite happy to hear that Potter insists that he is quite safe with his relatives due to the protections that _you_ left him with. Protections I might add that were broken this summer when several Death Eaters attacked."

Severus glared in the direction of the Headmaster, "and that reminds me...we never have addressed why it was that you had Potter stay with me for weeks on end without first mentioning the true reason why his relatives were unfit to care for him. Do you not think that might have been information I needed to know?" his brow arching inquisitively.

Albus had prepared himself for these questions. He had made it long habit to keep his cards close to the vest. He had learned the hard way over the years that everyone had an agenda manipulative though it might be the more people were left unaware the harder it was for them to make unexpected decisions. Albus was not a man that was unaware of his flaws. There had been a point in time when they had not only nearly destroyed him but could have potentially destroyed everything. Craving power was a vice but his true addiction was _control_. It was an impulse that he had worked hard to curb over the years. Forcing himself to trust people, advocating the good in others so that _he_ would remember that others were capable and willing to make the right decisions. Even so, recognizing flaws and even curbing bad impulses were not the same as eliminating those impulses altogether.

"The enchantments that I made at the home of Petunia Dursley are extremely powerful but also of the rarest variety. What Lily did for Harry... it was a sacrifice of the highest order. Such bravery and love is a precious and rare gift. Very often we tend to forget that Magic is a visceral thing. As mortals we can only hope to tame it, never full control it. A sacrifice of pure love such as that will leave its mark on the world. However, I explained to Harry last year that it is a sad but accurate truth that to be safe in the Dursley household they are not required to love him, only accept him."

"That is a terrible way for a boy to grow up Albus!" Minerva argued. "I warned you!"

"As you did," Albus allowed with an incline of his head. He wondered if he had ever truly learned his lesson all those years ago. Decades of regret and pain and yet the only thing he had thought about when he had placed Harry with a family that would never truly treat him as one of their own was that it was all done for the greater good.

"And you were right Minerva. It was not an ideal environment for Harry and for that I bear the guilt, but he survived. He lived when as much as you may argue otherwise it is entirely possible that the same could not be said if he had been raised elsewhere. I will admit that I fear that I did miscalculate. Had Petunia and Vernon truly loved Harry then I don't think that anyone would have been able to breach the enchantments. As it stands even with minimal affection the spells did not fall entirely. The Death Eaters that attacked were young recruits that had never killed another person. Harry was able to defeat them because of their inexperience. Do you think he would have fared as well against Death Eaters like Bellatrix Lestrange or her husband? Against Dolohov or Rookwood? Harry is powerful and he is beyond compare for a 16 year old wizard but we all know that he would not have survived against a full assault of Voldemort's best and it was those wizards that were not able to pass the perimeter of Privet Drive.

"The success he had at the end of the summer was due to the poison in his system. It brought out instincts that Harry's conscious mind does not know how to tap into. And he was helped by the fact that Voldemort will never quite understand the power that Harry has over him. I confess that I am not sure what magic Harry used that was able to shatter a wand with golden flames. I have never heard of such a phenomenon but the connection that Harry and Tom share is unique...intimate even. It is something that Tom disregards to his detriment and yet something that I would be very loath to rely on with any certainty, which is why I insisted that we keep the events of that last confrontation from Harry. Harry is strong but he is still sixteen and untrained, overconfidence will destroy him.

"As to your question Severus, you and I both agreed that I would keep information from you that would prove difficult to explain to Voldemort. Tom did not share his plan with his Inner Circle because he was not confident that his new recruits would succeed and if his Death Eaters do not know of his plan they will not discover yet another failure. Harry had bested Tom five times at that point, six times now. As much as Voldemort will insist to his followers that it is luck and perhaps my protection that has shielded Harry, there comes a time when even the most arrogant of men are forced to question their enemy's worthiness."

"And you don't think that it's luck that has saved Potter all this time?" Severus asked, brow raised quizzically- curious rather than skeptical.

Albus paused. Harry was a truly remarkable boy. Brave, selfless, so inherently good that Albus himself knew he could not find a better moral compass, but Harry was far from the most gifted wizard he had ever seen. He was smart but not brilliant. Powerful but no more so than his enemy. Quick and agile in a fight but ultimately unseasoned and rough. He fell solidly in the middle of his year group when it came to grades and seemingly had no ambition to improve on that front.

"I wish I had the answer to that question Severus. The only thing I can truly say about Harry is that he will not give up. He will never surrender, he will never abandon those he cares about, he will never run away and leave others fight in his place. Is that truly enough to win against someone like Lord Voldemort? Honestly in any other circumstance I would say it was not. Those of us who chose to do the right thing in the face of evil do not do it because we know that we will win, we do it because we know that there is no other choice to make. Harry may be young, much younger than I dare say any of us would have been to have his convictions, but he is ultimately no different from any that fight in the Order in that regard. However... I have long ago learned that when it comes to such things there is much that we cannot see or expect.

"Has luck helped Harry? I would say most certainly. But has luck alone allowed him to survive so much?" Albus raised his brows and allowed the question to linger in the room.

After a moment Severus turned to Minerva, "and how did your little Inquisition go Minerva? Are you sure you brought in enough people? Perhaps next time you find yourself with a student in a similar situation you can make an announcement during dinner in the Great Hall."

"Don't be so ridiculous, Severus. That boy has been forced to handle everything in his life on his own. It's more than time that he realized that he has more than Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger to depend on."

"I never said there was anything wrong with the sentiment but you can't honestly tell me you stand by your tactics? I am the first to admit that I don't see Potter in the same shimmering light as the rest of you but even I know him well enough to know that there would no scenario where that little ambush of yours would have ended well."

Minerva had the grace to look uncertain but it was not in her nature to admit fault with her students, particularly when she felt that she was making a hard but well intentioned decision for their own good. "I will say... Potter impressed me with his understanding of how the Dursleys treated him. I expected him to argue or to deny that he was mistreated but he surprised me. He handled the whole meeting with not only maturity but insight. He didn't make excuses for their behavior, didn't take unnecessary blame onto himself, and he yet recognizes that they will never feel anything that they are unwilling to feel. Regardless of my methods, I do feel confident that Harry will be just fine."

Severus looked thoughtful for a moment and it was times like this when the younger man was an enigma even to Albus. The man had carried around so much bitterness for so many years that at times Albus was truly unsure if the man remembered how to exist without the added weight of his own guilt and regret. The Head of Slytherin had his own childhood traumas but unlike Harry, Albus was not sure if the man had ever fully reconciled himself with those earliest feelings of betrayal and hurt he had felt from his abusive father. Severus was not a man that forgave easily if at all and had always failed to realize the cost of such bitter feelings.

Minerva made her farewells and retired after that, no doubt to think over what Severus had said to her regarding approaching potentially troubled students differently in the future. It was a rare thing for Severus to give anyone on staff advice on tact of any kind and rarer still for it hit home but Albus knew his Deputy quite well and knew that the thought that she might have handled the situation poorly would haunt her.

Once they were alone Albus addressed his spy on the other topic weighing on his mind. "Speaking of students affected by their upbringing, how is our young Mr. Malfoy doing Severus?"

Severus was by no means an expressive man but Albus could see a flash of disappointment appear in his eyes. "I admit that I had been...strangely optimistic regarding that boy. Draco... he is so much younger than I ever was. Or Potter is," Severus admitted, his mouth twisting into a frown. "At least when I chose to follow the Dark Lord I knew what I was getting into. I was not blind to the danger nor was I naïve enough to think that I was doing the wrong thing for the right reasons. I took the Mark because the Dark Lord offered me what you and the traditional Wizarding World could not. He offered me what I thought I wanted most in the world and I failed to realize that there was in fact a cost I wasn't willing to pay. I miscalculated, but I wasn't blind to my decisions regardless of any regret I may feel for them now. Draco... he has no conception of what the Dark Lord will ask him nor any real assessment of his own fortitude in being able to actually follow through with the orders of a madman."

"Then he is still committed to following Voldemort?" Albus asked with a sigh of regret. He had hoped that seeing his early plans end in disaster would be enough to divert the boy from his foolish plans. Other than the benefits of being able to offer a scenario in which Severus could better secure his position, his goal for his plan over the summer had been to ensure that Draco understood what failure to Voldemort truly meant.

"He now feels that he has no choice but to continue on this path. His father is ensconced once more in the Dark Lord's Inner Circle and for all of their faults, the Malfoys will not abandon one another."

"What if we presented a better offer to both Draco and Lucius?"

Severus was thoughtful. "Lucius is a proud man. It is not in his nature to grovel and I have no doubt that he would be quite happy to be rid of the Dark Lord for good but he is also self-serving and deceitful. There is nothing that you are willing to hang over his head in order to ensure that he stays in line. If he truly feared for his life or for Draco's that would be a different story but you and I both know that you would never carry out a threat against the life of either and without being able to guarantee his loyalty I feel that we are only setting ourselves up for potential disaster.

"As for Draco, the events of the summer shook him. He has never been in a situation where his life was truly in danger and Bellatrix's madness in trying to punish her nephew for his failure to capture Potter was nothing short of stupid. The Dark Lord gets away with punishing those who fail him in that manner because by the time he enacts such a method it is far too late for them to turn back. Giving Draco a taste of that life would have only made him determined to escape at any costs. However, Draco is also a stubborn child and the fact that he saw what Potter is truly capable of has made him determined to beat him."

Albus steepled his fingers and sighed. "One would imagine that after such a display as he witnessed he would think twice before challenging Harry again."

"On the contrary, as foolish as Draco is I think he even realizes that he is no match against Potter in a real fight. What he saw was not a school boy fight with a few traded jinxes and some embarrassing pranks this was... something else entirely. The Dark Lord used the Avada Kedavra, Albus. The boy should be dead and instead there is a burst of magic the like of which no one has ever seen before and the wand in his hand shatters. It might be luck, it might merely be fate, but Draco will not openly challenge Potter after that. But that doesn't erase five years of escalating hatred. If he can't beat the boy, he'll ally himself with the one person that can, and along with defeating his rival he and his family will be seated at the right hand of the ruler in the new world order. A childish fantasy but no less reason for him to continue on his path."

Albus frowned, "you said you had been optimistic?"

Severus hesitated, seemingly collecting his thoughts. "I admit that I saw a different side to Potter this summer. I have always felt, and still believe, that the people of our world make too many allowances for Potter simply due to his name but as you said Albus one cannot be faced with mounting evidence to the contrary of their beliefs and continue to ignore it indefinitely. The muggles of Crescent Nest were quite as captivated by Potter as the people of our world and that was with nothing about him. I might never like Potter but I cannot deny the fact that he has an ability to inspire loyalty in others. When they were trapped in the woods I think even Draco saw a spark of that incomprehensive Potter charm. After all if I'm to stand here and admit to all of the admirable qualities of the boy, even I could not claim that he is not excellent in a crisis. Potter thrives on panic and chaos, Draco does not. And Potter had the decency to show Draco compassion for a weakness that most rivals would have exploited. As Draco recovered from the shock on his experiences while in hospital he was feeling quite grateful towards him."

"But that gratitude has disappeared?" Albus asked surprised.

"Albus... you are a wise man and there are few things that I imagine you fail to understand but a man such as yourself has never, and probably will never, understand the feeling of inadequacy against a rival. Draco is embarrassed and jealous and very immature. He still feels that Potter is responsible for Lucius' stay in Azkaban, and he has now seen that a few months in care of the remaining Dementors has not been kind to a man that Draco considers his hero."

Albus nodded taking in the younger man's point. "Then he has met with Voldemort?"

Severus nodded, "Lucius and Draco have a pair of two way mirrors that they use to communicate and it is through these means that Draco received his assignment. It is what we feared."

"On the contrary, I do not think we have anything to fear from Draco. In fact... call me optimistic Severus but I imagine before the year is out, quite a few surprises are in order for our fair school. You know, many people couldn't believe that I remained a Headmaster here for so many years but I will say Severus, one of my favorite things about Hogwarts is that one is never too old to learn."

Albus' eyes twinkled for the first time in the conversation as he considered possibilities that he himself had not even known possible even an hour earlier.

 **A/N: Thank you so much for your responses from last chapter they were amazing and I'm so happy that people seem to like what I've been doing.**

 **A few people mentioned that something seems to be going on with Neville and I'm glad you noticed- look for Neville in coming chapters because he is the one character that I decided to take a slightly different tact than canon to. I love Neville but in the books he sometimes seems a little too good to be true and mine is a little more ambition-driven after the events at the Ministry.**

 **Sorry about the lack of Snape in the last couple of chapters he'll be popping back up next chapter and will stick around in a much better capacity from here on out. I had originally wanted to include him in McGonagall's meeting but I couldn't for the life of me think of a logical reason for anyone to include him. I like stories where Snape and Harry build a better relationship but I am honestly baffled when I read a story in which Harry's been so severely beaten by the Dursleys that he winds up in the hospital wing and is far more traumatized than my version is and everyone's first instinct is to grab the person that is cruelest to Harry. Harry hates Snape and makes no attempt to hide it but everyone seems to ignore this and then proceeds tell him that Snape's the only one that he can rely on because for inexplicable reasons everyone else is too busy to care. If there's a situation where Snape has an actual purpose- healing, potions, a specific mission- then I think it's great, but a forced bonding of two people that have never exchanged a civil word when one of them is at their most vulnerable always strikes me as inordinately callous.**

 **Now that the school year is getting into full swing there's going to be glimmers of romance. I don't plan to make any romance the main feature of the story but I wanted to put out a general warning that I find high school love interests that last a lifetime a bit unrealistic. So who someone dates for a time might not be who they wind up with and who they break up with might not be the end of that relationship forever. That being said... Ron and Hermione get a shot next chapter...**


	21. Ron's Partner

**Chapter 21: Ron's Partner**

"Oi! Ron are you even looking at us?" Ginny cried with frustration for the third time that practice when she had, once again, scored far too easily. The team was having an off day and Harry could honestly say that he was a part of the problem. He was not focused on running drills when his mind was still stuck on the meeting that he had had with Dumbledore only the night before. As promised the Headmaster had started their 'private lessons' but they had been very far removed from anything that Harry had expected. He had spent a day in nervous anticipating trying to think about what the greatest wizard in the world wanted to teach him. Was it advanced dueling techniques? Ways to use wandless magic in a fight? Would the professor share with him how he himself had once defeated Grindlewald, a man that had once held almost as much fear and power as Voldemort held now?

Instead the professor had shared with him memories from a pensieve. Memories about a certain Marvolo Gaunt that had treated his daughter as little better than trash and his son Morfin whom Harry was fairly certain was a sociopath. This was Voldemort's family. No wonder he was insane, it seemed to be hereditary. Though undoubtedly interesting Harry could not see how this information was at all relevant to him and had been dwelling all day on why Dumbledore would use valuable time to stroll down memory lane with him. In spite of Harry's argument to Hermione that he did not blindly trust Dumbledore's judgment, he still highly respected the man's opinion and did not doubt that what he was learning was somehow important- but it still bothered him that he could not yet see how.

Dean and Katie had taken to the other side of the pitch to practice among themselves but their usual momentum was off while his beaters seemed perilously close to knocking each other out. "Let's call it a day!" Harry shouted.

"We still have an hour!" Katie called back in surprise.

Harry shrugged, "I call it quitting while we're behind. We could all use a break."

Katie grinned at him, "Oliver would be ashamed of you Harry. You're making our team soft," she chided.

Harry rolled his eyes but didn't allow this logic to sway him. "Oliver should be used at a muggle correctional school to scare delinquents into following the law, he was bloody crazy."

Katie laughed and helped Dean pack up. Aside from the disaster of the day's practice the team had been coming along quite well in Harry's opinion. He had taken quite a lot of flak from the rest of the House when he had put his best friend, another Weasley, and another of his own dormmates on the team. McLaggen and his small but seemingly powerful group of allies had been calling favoritism and his team had been tainted with the idea ever since. If they could win the first match Harry knew that the criticism would die down and everyone would realize that he had chosen the team based on talent but many more practices like the one they had just endured and that might be easier said than done.

Ginny flew over to Harry and landed in a huff, "would you like to tell me what has Ron in a tizzy? He's been in a mood all day."

Harry shrugged, "he and Hermione had a fight."

"So? They've always just had a fight, what's the big deal?" Ginny's cheeks were red with anger and her long ponytail swayed with irritation as she moved.

Harry smirked at her as they lagged several paces behind Ron who was stomping towards the castle in anger. "Honestly... I don't even know this time. You know about our Sixth Year potion's projects?"

"The one's with partners from other Houses?"

"Yeah that's it. Well as everyone predicted Hermione and Terry won. They had the best project. It was so good that quite honestly I don't entirely understand it. It has something to do with a Golpott's Law about antidotes and simplifying the methods when the poison uses belladonna. They had like 13 test subjects with animals and documented case studies from the Ministry. It was great."

"And that caused a fight with Ron how exactly?"

Harry frowned, Ron had always been a bit sensitive when he felt that he was being insulted but the fight that he had started with Hermione from seemingly nowhere had been strange even for him. For the past three days Ron had been in a strange mood. Quiet and edgy, it had even affected his appetite. Perhaps most wouldn't even notice as Ron still finished a full plate of food, but his usual enthusiasm for meals had been severely tempered and he had not had his usual second or third helpings. Harry had asked Ron what was wrong as he hadn't seen anything out of the ordinary happen but the red-head had insisted that everything was fine. And it certainly had appeared that Ron had been about to shake whatever foul mood had gripped him off until the previous day when they had presented their projects.

Harry glanced up to make sure that Ron was too far away to overhear before he confided to Ginny. "Ron and Ernie didn't do very well on the project. They didn't fail or anything but they brought in this old teacher to judge the competition- Professor Slughorn, apparently he's going to have a say in all of our projects throughout the year- and he said something about them only putting in a minimal effort and that 'he had hoped that the son of Thurston MacMillian would deliver a more impressive effort in the future'. Hermione got onto Ron about messing around with Ernie too much and not taking things seriously and that basically devolved into an argument about Hermione having 'no idea' what the two of them do and that she should keep her nose out of his business."

"And I can imagine that went over well," Ginny said rolling her eyes.

"Ah well _that_ turned into a lecture from Hermione saying that she would gladly mind her own business if Ron were capable of handling his own and then Ron shouting at her she should be happy that he managed to screw up so much because nothing makes her happier than controlling other people."

Ginny nodded thoughtfully but when Harry didn't continue she pressed, "and Ron and Hermione have basically been saying the same things to each other for years so why is Ron all pissy and playing like shite?"

Harry smirked again, "you're compassion for their emotional pain is really overwhelming Gin. You should really learn to toughen up."

"Oh stuff it," Ginny laughed slapping his shoulder, "you and I both know you're thinking the same thing. And speaking of projects how did you and Greengrass do? She use this an opportunity to poison you?"

"Yes actually," Harry answered drily much to Ginny's surprise. "Our idea- sorry _Daphne's_ idea because to be quite clear on the subject she is the only one that gets to have an opinion on our potion's project."

"Was it that bad?" Ginny asked looking very amused at Harry's frustration.

Harry shrugged before giving relenting in a small grin, "not really. She's a bit easy to wind up but Greengrass is pretty brilliant at potions. Better than me- but don't tell her I said that. Anyway she thought that if you took powdered newt added to a Deceiving Potion it would be the exception to Veritaserum and I had to demonstrate for the class if I could lie with it."

"And did it work?"

"Yeah... but Snape called us on the fact that I can I throw off the Imperius Curse and made us test it on someone else. We used it on Dean and it worked on really simple white lies but the bigger the lie the more unreliable. We wound up with partial credit for the idea and the fact that nothing else counters veritaserum besides whether I can throw of the Imperius Curse or not wouldn't help me against the potion without Daph's idea."

"Nasty of Snape to bring that up when it sounds like he wasn't even in charge of judging," Ginny commented with a frown.

Harry scowled, "Not surprising though, the git never misses the opportunity to take the mickey out of me a bit. We would have done a lot worse if Slughorn hadn't defended us by saying that not only did he like the idea but that I should get credit for having a rare skill instead of penalized for it."

"That's good of him," Ginny agreed. "Nice bloke then?"

Here Harry wavered a bit in his answer, "Honestly I'm not sure how I feel about him. He seemed a lot more interested in the fact that I was 'Harry Potter' than what I was presenting anyway. He seems to know a lot of people but he also works a lot of angles- not my type of person. Did you know that he used to teach Potion's before Snape?"

Ginny shook her head. "Sounds like even if you don't really like him you would have a lot easier time in Potions if he still taught. What did Ron and Ernie do to for their project to get a bad grade?"

Harry winced in anticipation of the answer, "they used flaxseed oil on invisible ink."

Ginny blinked, "every first year student knows that flaxseed oil works against invisible ink."

Harry shrugged, "My only guess is that they were thinking it was so obvious no else would do it, on that front they were right."

"I thought the entire point of the project was to experiment, not point out what already existed?"

Harry inclined his head, "hence why they didn't do very well. Again they would have done worse but Slughorn did seem to appreciate the simplicity of it."

Ginny scoffed, "well I don't normally say this because I usually think Hermione likes to make dragons out of dungbeetles but I can't blame her for going on him for a project like that. Sounds like the two of them brainstormed for twenty minutes and spent the rest of the time messing about."

Harry made a noise of non-committal agreement before admitting, "to be honest I was surprised by the whole thing. Ron and Ernie have a good laugh together but I thought they would take the project a little more seriously but even if they didn't, it's not the end of the world. They still passed and like you said, Ron and Hermione fight all the time so I really don't know what's got Ron all riled up. Tell you the truth this year he's been a lot more...mature than in the past."

Ginny scoffed at this, leading Harry to defend his best friend. "No honestly. He's been... well quite honestly I think everything that happened over the summer with your uncle and your cousin Vera really affected him."

"He told you about that?" Ginny asked in surprise. "I mean, it's not like it's a secret or anything but... no one in the family really talks about it if we can help it. Mental illness," Ginny winced, "it sounds terrible but it's not very common in the Wizarding World and most people...well let's just say that it's not something that's considered 'polite conversation' and while the Weasleys aren't much for tradition I suppose some traditions have a way of sticking, you know?"

Harry nodded his understanding. He might not study up on the ins and outs of the Wizarding World but he had been present in the world long enough to know that wizards had a particularly outdated view of things. "I don't think he only told me when he didn't know what else to do. He was just worried about how Vera was handling everything and wanted some advice."

Ginny raised her eyebrows, "from someone who might know what she was going through?" she asked bluntly.

Harry shrugged but didn't deny that it was true, "I told Ron it wasn't the same situation but he wanted me to talk to her anyway."

Ginny nodded slowly her expression thoughtful as she thought back, "you talked to her when we were playing Quidditch. She came back a lot happier Harry, thank you."

Harry offered a shy smile, "I didn't do anything special. It doesn't take a lot of effort just to talk and listen to someone."

"Might not take much effort but it's still not always easy to know what to say. Actually, I've been meaning to say..." Ginny blushed ever so slightly but her eyes didn't waver from his face as she admitted, "I heard that you have a meeting with that woman from Wizarding Child Protective Services tomorrow."

"Heard about that have you?" Harry asked her drily. There had been another article about Harry's relatives in the paper with promises on behalf of the Ministry to 'resolve any and all issues relating to Mr. Potter's unfortunate home life', and the school had been buzzing about it all week.

"Listen Harry, I know this might not mean a lot but I want you know that I understand that everyone's been all over you. Asking you questions, offering to talk, telling you they understand when they probably don't, but I wanted to let you know that if you ever want to tell everyone to bugger off and spend some time on the pitch flying, I'll be happy to join you."

Harry looked at her in surprise, "thanks Gin, that means a lot. Quite honestly if one more person comes up and asks me really quietly if 'I'm doing alright' with everything I might lose it."

Ginny nodded, "well...after my First Year and everything that happened with Tom and the diary... my family treated me like they were walking on eggshells all summer. It was nice at first. With 7 of us it's not always easy to get much attention for anything but after a while it started driving me bloody insane. I just wanted to let you know that I'm not going to be another person in your face asking you questions or trying to make sure you're alright, you have enough people for that. Don't get me wrong if you ever want to talk to me, you know you can," she added quickly, "but...if you want an escape, I'll cover you."

Harry smiled at her, genuinely touched for the first time since this whole thing started that someone else finally understood the idea of being able to help him without having to talk about everything to death. "Thanks Gin, and for the record, the same offer applies for you. If you ever have a rough day and need to blow off some steam, I'll cover you as well."

Ginny smiled and not for the first time Harry realized that she was in fact an extremely beautiful girl. He wasn't sure where that awkward little girl with her elbow in the butter dish had gone, but she seemed to have nothing in common with the confident, self-possessed woman Ginny was surely becoming. "Well as long as we agree only to hang out together if one of us feels obligated. I would hate for us just to have fun together as friends," she teased him.

"Never. In fact from now on I promise not to even smile around you."

Ginny laughed, "well... I wouldn't make hasty promises Harry," she answered with a bit of wink and left Harry blinking after her as she walked back to the castle, wondering idly just how he had wandered into that particular conversation with his best friend's little sister.

HPHPHPHP

Harry made his way back to Common Room, grateful that the long week was finally over. His detentions with Tackley had ended the previous night as he had started the Thursday before and he found himself grateful he had Friday evening free to himself. It seemed to Harry that even Tackley had felt slightly guilty about issuing him a week of detentions for beating her competition. The tasks she had assigned had been tedious- jobs that required him to be specific and follow directions because 'clearly this was an area that he needed to improve on' but they were by no means as bad as some of Harry's other detentions. Though perhaps after Umbridge Harry's tolerance for punishment had increased past the normal.

By the time he got back into Gryffindor Tower, Ron was already off in a corner drinking butterbeers with Seamus and two Fourth Year girls that Harry didn't know the names of, though one of them with dark hair and a heavily made-up face was shooting hopeful looks in his direction the second he walked in the door.

"Hey," Harry said, "anyone see Hermione?" he asked as he wordlessly accepted a bottle from Seamus, raising it to clink the neck of his with the other boy's bottle in thanks.

"Up in the girls dorm with Lavender and Pavarti," Seamus said looking rather amused. "They were giggling and I think I heard the words 'make over'."

Harry's eyes widened, "um...are we talking about the same Hermione or are we perhaps talking about someone that has abducted her and is doing a terrible job of maintaining their cover?"

Ron too looked as surprised as he was by this strange new development. But only minutes later they were taken out of their suspense by Lavender rushing down the stairs, "I am a genius. A bloody fucking genius and I should get a Special Award for Services to the School for this!"

"Finally find that elusive lip gloss you've been searching for Lav?" Ron asked with a wink, his dour mood from earlier lifting slightly under the effects of the butterbeer.

Lavender smirked, "why were you wondering how it tastes?"

Ron sputtered slightly but was saved from having to respond by Lavender's own excitement. "Pav and I have been upstairs helping Hermione get ready for her date-"

"Her what?" Ron asked sharply.

Lavender's eyes sparkled with mischief at the shock that was clear on the redhead's face. "Oh my god, you didn't know? She didn't tell you?" she glanced quickly between Harry and Ron but Harry only shrugged glancing over at Ron to see his reaction.

"Hermione's going out with Terry Boot. They've been getting along great together for their project, I can't believe I never thought of setting the two of them up before, they have so much common!"

"Like what?" Ron asked indignantly and knew that any chance of Ron's mood improving had just been shot to hell.

"Well, they like to read. And study. And there favorite place is the library," Lavender rattled off.

Harry rolled his eyes, "you do realize that Hermione has other interests than just studying right? You've only been her dormmate for over five years now."

Lavender looked supremely unconcerned about what any of Hermione's actual interests might be and instead settled for grabbing Seamus around the shoulders and turning him towards the stairs just as Hermione made her appearance. "Told you... I am a fucking genius."

And in her way, Lavender was quite right. Hermione looked amazing. Her hair was shiny and loosely curled, spilling down her shoulders in a way that Harry had never seen before and she was wearing an outfit that was clearly not her own. Muggle jeans and a shirt that did not quite cover her stomach, Hermione looked quite different without her school robes and overspilled backpack. He form was more slender than Harry had ever noticed before and the light colors of the shirt brought out the lingering effects of her summer tan nicely. Ron was blinking dumbly at her and Harry worried they would have another scene like the one following the Yule Ball.

"Hermione! Hermione, come over here, you said he was meeting you at 9, the last thing you want to do is show up early."

"It's only five till 9 now, by the time I get there I'll be right on time," Hermione hedged but she was shooting the group rather nervous looks and Harry suspected that she too was nervous over the reaction to her date.

"Merlin Hermione for top of the class you are hopeless! Make him wait. Show him that your time is worth it. Seamus here waited for me for over an hour, isn't that right love?"

Seamus glared at her, "and we went out one time so take from that what you will," he stated drily.

"You look brilliant Hermione," Harry offered when he saw that she was shifting nervously and covering her arms self-consciously over her chest, clearly uncomfortable that her shirt did not cover as much as most were designed to cover.

"Thanks Harry," she answered blushing slightly at the compliment but she was looking at Ron, waiting for him to say something.

"Er...I hadn't realized that you and Terry were an item," Ron said his voice slightly strained, his neck turning red.

"Well... we worked together so well for our project. And we really do have a lot in common and he just asked if we couldn't spend time together. Outside the library that is," Hermione was rambling nervously. "The Sorting Hat even put us together so that must mean that we're compatible in some way, right?"

Ron's expression was hard to read. It wasn't anger but there was a closed off, rather stunned quality to it. "Right. Well Harry's right...you look brilliant Hermione. Have a good time," he said quietly and without another glance Ron headed up to the dorm, stopping only to grab a second butterbeer.

Hermione left quickly after that for her date and Harry knew enough to leave Ron on his own a bit. He was rather impressed with how well Ron had handled things, truth be told he wasn't sure if he would have had the same class to watch someone that he liked go out with someone else. He bitterly envied Cedric for months after Cho and he knew that he had never liked her as much Ron cared about Hermione. He too grabbed a second butterbeer and settled in for a night of keeping his roommates out of the dorm for a bit.

HPHPHPHP

The next morning, Ron was stoically pretending that nothing out of the ordinary had occurred the night before and Hermione was refusing to broach the topic at all. Gossip of Hermione's new romance had made it's way swiftly throughout the school but was only interesting to the most romantic of the Third and Fourth Year girls. Following his friends' example, Harry too was choosing to say nothing about this recent development in his friends lives and instead was more interested in the meeting that he had today with the Minster. He had been owling Martin Tisdale for the better part of two weeks and he felt confident that for once he was not walking into a meeting with adults blind.

Shortly before eleven o'clock, Harry was met by his solicitor before the meeting with the Ministry. "Harry good to see you!" Martine greeted with an enthusiastic handshake. "You certainly weren't wrong when you told me that you don't stay out of trouble for long. You have quickly become my most interesting client."

"Glad one of us is so excited about this meeting, can't say that I share your optimism," Harry commented wryly.

Martin waved him off, "not to worry, you present a very appealing offer and the conditions you want set will not be enough to discourage them. They much rather have you as a willing partner than one dragged out and given the appearance of a captive. You standing behind the Minister glaring at cameras will do nothing for his image, but a full partner that has leverage over what he says will go a long way to getting some of the more reluctant allies from the Continent. Doesn't hurt your cause that most of them haven't wanted much to do with Fudge in years."

Harry nodded, Hermione after initial skepticism over his plan of action, she had actually dove in with her usual passion in order to help him. Harry suspected that in spite of her vehement insistence that she had been doing it with Harry's best interests in mind, Hermione felt a bit guilty about the way she had gone about ambushing him with so many people over the Dursleys and was attempting to make amends in the one of the only ways she could do so without having to actually having to admit that she might have been wrong.

"Are you ready?" Martin asked him and Harry let out a slow breath and squared his shoulders, the most important part this meeting was showing Fudge that he was not at all worried about what was about to happen.

"Let's do it then," Harry said and was glad to hear that his voice sounded much stronger than he felt.

The Headmaster's office was expectedly crowded, Fudge had put all of his eggs in this basket. After the way he had gone about things, he needed Harry's help more than ever and it was making it clear that one way or another he was going to get it. Flanked on both sides of him were four Aurors, all wearing similar expressions of dismay at having been included in this meeting. Harry felt sure that just about everyone could agree that the Aurors had better things to do with their time than provide the Minster with unneeded political intimidation. Alongside the Minister were also two older men that appeared to be there in a different official capacity. Whether they were merely Fudge's assistants or personal solicitors he wasn't sure but he found the inclusion of them in the meeting interesting. Harry wondered if he had made a mistake of informing Stavely that he had a solicitor of his own, after all his best chance of success against the Minister was for them to underestimate him.

"Harry!" Fudge cried out right away, arms spread wide in affection, drawing the attention of everyone in the room.

"Minister Fudge," Harry answered solemnly, extending his hand politely. "I have to say that you've really outdone yourself. I never thought you would put so much concern over my living arrangements considering everything else you have to worry about. As Minister you must be extremely busy. Especially now," Harry added pointedly.

"Nonsense if we can't worry about each person in our society what are we protecting it from?" Fudge asked and Harry blinked as he realized that whether said sincerely or not, he could not disagree with the sentiment.

Staveley was present, arms full of parchment that appeared to be his records of some kind. McGonagall was standing near Dumbledore, her usual stern expression drawn into a deep frown of disapproval and Harry was not even surprised to find that Snape had also been included in the meeting. He assumed that both Stavley and Dumbledore wanted him there for their own reasons, and once again Harry had never been consulted about what he might prefer.

"Minister Fudge this is my solicitor Martin Tisdale, I hope you don't mind but I rather thought that he should be here today," Harry said, his tone making it crystal clear that he really didn't care whether the Minister minded or not.

"Harry, I hope you know that it's quite...unusual for children to bring their own representation into a meeting like this," Stavely said, her tone still calm and patronizing as ever.

Harry bit back what he truly wanted to say, something along the lines of _Merlin forbid you actually listen to what anyone actually wants before deciding their entire lives for them._ And instead remembered to keep his temper. "I rather thought it best we that all stay on the same page. Minister, you and I both know why I'm here and I'm not sure if you've informed Florence Stavely over there or not, but if you don't mind, instead of beating around the bush I much rather get down to it."

Fudge's open expression closed down and suddenly Harry saw the man that he had seen in Courtroom 10 when the man had attempted to expel him for using magic to defend himself against Fudge's own Undersecretary's assassination attempt. "I can appreciate that. Ms. Stavely if you don't mind waiting outside I rather think that the adults need to speak for the moment. Don't go far...you might be needed."

"Of course Minister, Harry why don't you come with me while the adults talk."

There was the faintest beat of uncomfortable silence before Snape rolled his eyes and spoke languidly, "Honestly I would have thought that even a woman of your obviously limited intelligence would have caught on at this point. He is not referring to Potter, he's talking about you."

Stavely flushed purple in a combination of anger and clear embarrassment, her eyes darting quickly to her colleagues as though someone in the room would correct this misunderstanding that she was being asked to leave in place of a sixteen year old boy, when no else made eye contact she quickly left the room without another word and in spite of everything Harry felt a flash of sympathy for her. The woman was condescending and clearly lacked a fundamental understanding of the very people she wanted to help but Harry could at least admit now that she did in fact think she was helping. Harry didn't think that it had ever occurred to her that her job had been used merely as a means to get Harry to cooperate.

"Alright Mr. Potter, you prefer to 'get down to it' as you say, I must say that I had not expected you to be quite as astute as you are. I've underestimated you in the past and I would like the rest of our world to recognize the man that you clearly are."

"What you need is someone of Harry Potter's current widespread appeal to help you save face," Tisdale answered smoothly, stepping forward for the first time in the meeting. "Minister Fudge, let us be frank. You and your administration waged a yearlong slander and libel war against my client, all with the presumed interest of insuring that knowledge of You-Know-Who's return never became public."

"I didn't believe him to be back!" Fudge argued.

"The fact that your defense for being cruel and corrupt is that you were merely ignorant and uninformed of events directly affecting the welfare of the people that you are sworn to protect is not comforting Minister. Particularly in light of the position that you have shockingly held on to in the wake of the discovery that not only has You-Know-Who returned but your lack of preparation allowed him to actually enter the Ministry itself. Let us be clear, Minister, your administration has not only conducted itself with a criminal amount of over-reach but it has endangered our very world, not to mention that of the muggles as well."

Fudge was flushing red but he seemed incapable of saying anymore at the moment. Harry expected one of the well-dressed older men to speak up but for the moment they seemed content to wait and hear the complete list of grievances against their employer. "You come here with the aim of coercing Harry's cooperation in rectifying your public image but I have to ask, why in Merlin's name would he want to help you? You dragged his name through the mud, casting aspersions on his very sanity before calling into question his morality by insisting that he was not only a liar but one that would endanger the public merely for attention. Before we even begin to negotiate, I feel obligated to make it clear here and now precisely how damaging your ridicule has been. My client was a _fifteen year old student_ that was ostracized and at times even taunted by his peers because insinuations that you made. You have always felt it incumbent upon yourself to remind Harry and others of his age and have used the fact that he is a minor to your advantage, disregarding his opinion and preventing him from properly defending himself both physically and criminally. Harry rose to both occasions but we should not forget that no matter how maturely my client has conducted himself, he is still a teenager that has felt the brunt of a hate campaign the likes of which any adult would have felt pressured to crack under. He received _hate mail_ from your constituents shaming him for doing nothing more than escaping the grips of the most evil wizard that any of us has ever encountered and was brave enough to forewarn us all.

"Therefore before you make any offers let us not forge that your position has shifted considerably Minister. You need Harry's help and as of yet he has been shown absolutely no reason to give it to you."

Fudge's former confidence had faded completely and he looked pale and perhaps even a bit sick. The Aurors that had come with him were eyeing him with nothing short of disgust and even the professors in the room were eyeing Harry with a new interest that Harry was not quite sure what to make of. He forced himself to remain still rather than shift uncomfortably under their collective gaze.

"Harry...Mr. Potter," Fudge corrected, and when he spoke it was with a tone that Harry had never heard from him before. There was no bluster or false cheer, instead his voice was softer and felt sincere. "there are not many things that I have lived to truly regret but I can honestly say with complete humility that I was wrong last year. To escape Lord...You-Know-Who the way that you did is...truly remarkable and I should have respected both your courage in surviving and in your steadfast devotion to the truth. Regardless of my other goals with this meeting, I truly respect you."

Harry felt off balance, he had come into this meeting with both barrels blasting, full prepared for the Minister to try and exert his control but he had not expected the man to actually treat him decently, even respectfully. He wasn't sure what the right thing to do was at this point. Did he forgive the man after making his life miserable? He didn't think that he could do that even if wanted to. Umbridge had made Harry's life a living hell. Taken away the one place that had always felt safe and like a true home and instead had made Harry even contemplate leaving and returning to the Dursleys- a place he had once believed that he would never set a willing foot into if he could help it. But was it worth holding onto a grudge that could only hurt Harry in the end? After all for all of his planning for this meeting he had no illusions who had the real power. Should he be the bigger person? If he did was he tacitly agreeing to something that he was trying desperately to avoid? All of these questions ran through Harry's mind at a careening pace,

Thankfully for one of the first times in Harry's life he had ensured that he was not dependent only on himself- Martin Tisdale was stepped in without missing a beat.

"And we appreciate the sentiment Minister. It is a strong man that admit when he is wrong but quite frankly such a sentiment could have been expressed in a personal letter. As my client rather bluntly stated in the beginning of this meeting, we all know why we're truly here so at this point I would very much like to hear your proposal."

Fudge's eyes narrowed slightly at the rebuke but he did not protest, if anything his shoulders sagged slightly and Harry had the impression that he was truly disappointed that his words had not met a warmer reception.

It was at this point at the older man on the left stepped forward, "Perhaps I should introduce myself Sheldon Rowle, Special Counsel to the Minister, I've been working with him on his proposal and I feel that all of us ultimately have the same goal in mind. Mr. Potter has done commendable work in the past for the betterment of our society. Everyone in this room is committed to not only seeing the end to You-Know-Who but also ensuring that public safety is of paramount concern. The Ministry has made mistakes in the past, we are willing to admit to that but is the memory of past mistakes worth destroying a great partnership between us now?"

Harry frowned at the man and glanced at Dumbledore. Thorfinn Rowle was a Death Eater, one that Harry had seen only the other night eagerly watching his master as he tortured a shopkeeper for information. The scene had been chaotic and Harry had not been able to even understand what Voldemort was searching for. It appeared that he wanted information on a specific object but what it was or for what purpose Voldemort wanted it was lost. Instead Harry had been forced to watch for torturous minutes as he felt the frenzied excitement of the Death Eaters, the frustration accompanied by righteous anger from Voldemort on being kept from what he sought only to have the emotions of the others nearly dwarfed by the overwhelming terror and pain of the old man as he screamed that he didn't have any answers.

Dumbledore seemed to understand Harry's question for he subtly shook his head, apparently as far the Headmaster knew Sheldon had not followed in his relative's footsteps. Harry took a breath before speaking up, determined not hide behind his lawyer for the entire meeting. "I agree with you Mr. Rowle but wanting to do better in the future and having the ideas to actually do it are two different things. I have no problem standing beside a Ministry that upholds the ideals that I believe in, but I won't blindly agree to support something when no one is even telling me what that support means."

Rowle narrowed his eyes, his blue eyes icy and appraising and Harry remembered Sirius' warning that the world was not split into good guys and Death Eaters. Rowle might have good intentions and he might not, but he was certainly a clever man that was used to getting what he wanted.

"A noble sentiment Mr. Potter," the second man spoke up. "Grey Horton, Special Counsel for the Ministry in charge of public relations. As stated before you are a mature and certainly capable young man. But at the risk of putting an end to these rather forced niceties, you are still a sixteen year old boy that is not only two years away from even graduating from Hogwarts but with no experience in political or foreign affairs."

"One could argue that your Ministry has given him a degree of political experience Mr. Horton," Snape desponded with his usual dryness. Harry started at the unexpected defense. Harry could feel himself staring with wide eyes and forced himself to look away.

"We have given him media exposure," Horton corrected. "Negative granted, but that is not the same as proposing defense bills, navigating the alliances of the Wizengamot, or even understanding the repercussions for the ideas that he claims to support. Mr. Potter despite how this might look I am not trying to insult you. I have no doubt that you have the finest of intentions but as you elegantly put it 'wanting to do better in the future and having the ideas to do so are two different things'. There is no question that you will do as you see fit but the unfortunate truth of politics is that nothing is so black and white. It's an endless game of unhappy compromises."

"And a compromise is what we are willing to offer," Tisdale cut in swiftly. "We are not unreasonable. We understand that Mr. Potter's influence can only, and should only, reach so far but as my client has wisely stated- what influence we are willing to offer will not be given blindly. So I ask first in what capacity did you see Harry helping you?"

Rowle stepped forward, "we have reliable intelligence that You-Know-Who has been and still is expanding his network of allies. He has the majority of Dementors, the giants, several Vampire clans and werewolf packs all at his disposal and has lately been shifting his influence onto the Continent. There are several groups that sympathize with his views and he is set to almost triple the size of his army but our bigger problem is the fact that government collaboration has been almost nonexistent. There is going to be a summit meeting in Paris on October 10th, a little less than two weeks from now and we would like Mr. Potter to accompany our own representatives. We do not expect Mr. Potter to attend any official meetings and it would be clear that his word cares no official weight. In fact any kind of classified or even pertinent information will not be given to him. There are numerous social events that this event will encompass and it is here that we would like him to attend."

Harry scowled. They wanted him to be a mascot. Worse...some kind of... _arm candy_ for whoever the actual representative was.

"And our compromise I feel is more than fair. Harry doesn't need to attend the official meetings, nor will he be recognized as an official voice of the British Wizarding Government, however, he will be given any information that is not considered a clear security risk and during these 'social events' as you call them he will be able to voice his own opinion as a private citizen. He will be introduced as an independent voice in any outside negotiations and he reserves the right to formally criticize any policy he disagrees as long as he in turn presents an overall supportive position for the British government and refrains from openly disparaging the Minister or any of representatives while in the company of foreign delegates."

"That is quite the promise from a boy that is known for acting impulsively and has been known to display a temper when he feels provoked," Horton observed drily. "And what if Potter suddenly decides to go back on this little promise?"

"I would remind that you that you were the ones that proposed having Harry at these events in the first place," Tisdale reminded them curtly, "if you were concerned about his attitude towards you, I wonder why you were so eager to recruit him?"

Harry wondered this as well. It would be all too easy for him to show up at one of these little events and talk about how Fudge was an idiot that had done nothing to stop Voldemort when Harry had told the man himself that Voldemort had returned only an hour after the fact.

Rowle's icy blue eyes were sharp and there was a cruel smirk on his face that Harry could easily see would lend itself to the idea that the man was not quite as different from his Death Eater relation as he might pretend to be. "As we said, we hold Mr. Potter's actions of the past year in nothing but the highest regard and it would be for his benefit that we remanded him into protective service and away from his abusive relatives. With a new guardian he will finally receive the special, individualized care that he has always needed and, as a boy with his position in our world, should have had from the beginning. And if his new guardian finds that that care is best served outside of Hogwarts... then I think most people would commend them for how seriously they are taking on their new custody responsibilities, don't you think?"

Harry felt anger well up in him and it took everything that he had not start shouting at them.

"Abusive relatives? As Mr. Potter's personal solicitor I've never heard of any such complaint from my client. In fact, the only time I have heard anything about his home life being less than ideal is through the same newspaper that made up vicious lies about him last year."

Horton smiled dully, "ah but we now have obtained a statement from a...Dudley Dursley who was able to tell his therapist about the terrible things his parents, and himself, have done to Potter over the years. I suppose it is nice that the boy is finally receiving the help that he needs."

"You can just use private medical files like that?" Harry asked in surprise.

"If the patient divulges information that relates directly to the safety of another individual, than yes," Rowle retorted. "And I might also point out the fact that you yourself Mr. Potter made arrangements for the care of the very relatives that abused you only lends itself to the suggested idea that you are too close to the situation and have not been able to break away from their influence."

"Potter made these arrangements?" Snape asked smoothly, his brow lifting. "And when was this done?" McGonagall was also looking at him with a mixture of surprise, concern and perhaps even a hint of disapproval.

"Harry wrote to me over the summer and asked that I find a facility that will help his aunt, who was in critical condition at the time and to find a therapist for his cousin, who is currently suffering from Spell Shock after the attack on their home, with whom it would be safe to discuss the Wizarding World. Harry authorized me to make any necessary arrangements and yes, he is paying for the treatment of his relations. Something most would consider a responsibility of a family member not evidence of Stockholm Syndrome," he pointed out icily.

Snape was glaring at him and Harry knew that he was thinking about the fact that Harry had been told not to send any letters over the summer but technically Harry had only been told that he couldn't communicate with his 'little friends', nothing had never been said about official correspondence with a professional. Harry looked steadily back, no guilt on his face, and the professor held his gaze only a moment before looking away.

"Perhaps people might see it that way, but I think Mr. Potter knows the public well enough to know that solicitous gossip does have a way of leaving a mark on the truth."

"So that's it then, I do what you want and say what you want me say or you kidnap and pack me off to a family of your choice?" Harry finally broke and asked with as much calm as he could.

"Kidnapping would only true if it were not done legally Mr. Potter," Rowle reminded him tartly.

"The fact remains that Potter brings nothing but his name into any negotiation and while we need his name we are not willing to allow an angry teenager to run roughshod over important negotiations seems because he feels mistreated. We all have a role to play in this coming war Potter, and you best learn now to fall in line with yours."

Harry felt the remaining strains on his temper failing. ' _Fall in line with his role in the war?_ ' Harry had been fighting this war before any of these men were even willing to admit that a fight was needed. Harry would play his role. He knew it better than anyone but he would be damned if he was told what to do by men in formal dress robes who would never be facing off against Voldemort or his Death Eaters in a real fight. Who were more concerned with public relations than with keeping people alive.

Harry felt that familiar sense of power build him, the same way it had in the station when Hermione's father had been warning him to stay away. These men were determined to see him as a child but Harry had never been granted the luxury of a childhood. He had been forced to fight for every single thing in his life if these Ministry pencil pushers wanted to see him pay his part in the war he was more than ready to show them. He saw it the moment they realized that perhaps they had finally pushed him too far. Rowle's eyes widened slightly and Horton visibly shuddered even as Fudge sucked in a sharp breath, fear clear on his face, as they felt that spark of power in the air that Harry had once associated with Dumbledore.

McGonagall stepped forward to say something but she was interrupted by the one person Harry had expected to hear from least in that moment.

"A name that wields significant power or we would all not be standing here at all wasting our valuable time. And Potter brings more than that to table- have you not been informed that the _Kováč Clan_ has issued an oath of fealty to the Potter name, even you must recognize the significance of that," Snape interjected once and Harry felt as if he had slipped into some parallel universe where Snape wasn't a complete bastard. It was the second time he spoken up in his defense during the meeting.

Rowle blinked in clear surprise and quickly tried to collect himself. When he spoke his voice was slightly hoarse, "The _Kováč Clan_ issued this? They have pledged loyalty to any wizard in over 200 years!"

"Yes Potter is just a bringer of miracles to us all," Snape snapped drily, "but it proves my point. You need allies from the Continent, Minister. If the Dark Lord's overtures are successful, Britain stands to be outnumbered and we will be overrun inside the year. Now as completely ridiculous as it is to be standing here negotiating with a 16 year old mediocre student about bargaining power in an International Summit, I think you will find that making reasonable concessions is to _your_ benefit. I can tell you from personal experience that Potter is defiant, aggressive and rude when he wants to be. If you drag him into this against his will I can assure you with total confidence you will regret it. Potter is single minded in his tasks and gives absolutely no regard to his own comfort in reaching his goal," Snape's eyes flicked to Harry's hand and Harry was momentarily surprised that the man not only remembered the old injury but understood what it really meant. Harry would never give in. He would never surrender no matter what the cost.

"In the war of attrition Minister, you are fighting an unfair battle. You don't are worried about even losing your job, Potter has already proven he willingly return to relatives I can assure you despises if it means getting what he ultimately wants. If saving your political face is the goal of all this, call off your threats. Treat the boy with respect and if you can get him to agree to your terms things will go smoothly, he's far too naïve to consider going back on his word."

Harry didn't think he had ever heard Snape speak so much at one time. He was generally a man of few words and the ones that he spoke were filled with harsh criticism and barbed sarcasm. The sarcasm had still be present in his tone, Harry was unsure if the man knew who to speak without it, but after five years of having the man always assume the worst about him, Harry was completely shocked by his unlikely ally in the meeting.

The three men were conferring quietly, no doubt re-evaluating their strategy.

"Alright our proposition is as follows. Mr. Potter will attend the Summit as a guest of the British Ministry. His word will hold no official power and it will be made clear that he is not a voting delegate. He will attend all social events but will only be given a briefing of information from our ambassador when it comes to official meetings and it will be at our delegate's discretion as to what information he is given. He will be able to offer his own unsolicited opinion on any policy matters that he chooses provided he maintains public support for Minister Fudge."

"I feel one additional addendum is necessary, at the end of the Summit, or any future events that Potter is requested to attend, he will deliver a press release to _Daily Prophet_ that will be unedited by the Ministry," Snape said smoothly while Harry glared at him. The last thing that he wanted to do was not only agree to 'future events' but be writing his own press releases. The whole thing seemed like a nightmare his 12 year old self had dreamed up after spending a night in detention with Lockhart. It was already bad enough that he was expected to play the Ministry's pet during these meetings but did he have broadcast the fact to the entire Wizarding World.

"I never-"

"I feel that's an excellent idea Severus," Dumbledore spoke up, over Harry protest. He shot Harry a look of slight apology but it was clear that once again Harry was not going to get a say in what happened next. "I also have one other addendum. Harry is an underage, Hogwarts student and as such the question of his safety and supervision falls to us. Especially given Harry's position in the war, I feel it would unwise to leave him unattended and perhaps just as unwise to leave him without counsel during such an important event. Hogwarts has a long tradition of working alongside the Ministry and this is not the first time in her long history that a student has been asked to attend an official function. As you probably know Minister, part of our charter states that in the event of such a circumstance, a teacher will accompany the student. One that will be privy to official meetings and can best decide what information to give to Harry," he added with his customary twinkling eyes.

Harry felt the beginnings of dread. Surely not. Even Dumbledore would not do this to him. And yet there was only person that Harry knew Dumbledore would chose to have go with him.

"Dumbledore, if you want Potter to have a chaperone that can be arranged but whoever it is that will be in attendance will have no official standing. They cannot attend closed meetings either."

"Severus has a working relationship with the _Kováč Clan_ and holds a position as a Head of House, which means that according to our charter, which you so helpfully restored to its original status after the events of last year, he has the appropriate security clearance with the Ministry for such negotiations. He will not have a vote obviously, nor a voice but he will be able to bear witness to events as they take place and decide what is relevant to relay Harry."

Harry could see what Dumbledore was doing. By placing his spy in the meetings he was going to get to learn everything that was being said himself, a fact not lost on any of the men in the room from the looks of things, and it was also giving him control over what Harry could find out rather than the Ministry. But Harry knew Snape, and knew that from him, Harry would learn absolutely nothing. Once again Harry glared at the Headmaster, showing his displeasure, but he was unwilling to openly contradict him in front of the Minister. If Harry had to choose, he had made his choice. He trusted Dumbledore infinitely more than the Ministry... he just wished that he could completely trust Dumbledore.

"And there is one other matter that needs to be addressed," Tisdale added with a slight cough that reminded Harry a bit of Umbridge. He was glad to have the Minister on the receiving end of it for once. "Harry is going to considerable trouble for all of you. He'll be missing school, advancing the causes of an administration that he has no personal attachment to- we need to discuss compensation."

"The Minister is not at liberty to pay for the support he receives," Horton answered quickly. Harry narrowed his eyes at the man in a clear sign that the idea that Fudge didn't either pay or receive payment for support was ludicrous.

"We both know that its' more than reasonable to pay for the services of a guest consultant on a trip like this, but in this case you don't have worry. Harry has no desire to receive any gold from you. His desired compensation is in experience. As you aware, Harry wants to be Auror, a fact that must make you positively joyous. I think we can all agree that no one wants Harry Potter of all people to need three years to complete the traditional training, or at the very least, to be battle ready well before that official training is completed. Which is why our offer is that in exchange for Harry's cooperation, you agree to send either one or two Aurors to Hogwarts to train Harry twice a week. Once again a deal that is more in your favor than ours, particularly when you get to tell everyone that the Ministry has a hand in preparing Potter for his...destiny."

Harry shot the solicitor a wry look at the dramatic ending but struggled not to look overly nervous. It had been Tisdale's idea that Harry should receive compensation for his work, something that had embarrassingly not occurred to Harry, but he had latched onto quickly. Tisdale had at first meant monetary compensation, but Harry had bigger plans in order. Ron had pegged Tackley early on, she competent, knew her stuff and was actually a good teacher when it came to technique and following procedure. She was also inflexible and refused to consider any new approach that had been created in the last fifty years. Harry wasn't sure if the Aurors that had trained under were any better if he was honest, but he did know that at the moment they were better fighters than him and that was all he cared about. He had been practicing in the Room of Requirement with his dummies but the time had passed where he could train exclusively alone. He needed help and this seemed to be the best way to ask for it. An even trade that did not place him in anyone's debt.

There was some more sidebar talk before the three men agreed to the plan. It was roughly agreed that Harry would attend the conference and give his press release after and then, depending on the success of the first meeting, they would decide if Harry would attend additional such functions. Harry would be able to meet with an Auror every Monday and Thursday for three hours to practice. Truth be told it was a bit longer than he had originally intended but Harry had quickly agreed. He was grateful that they were able to work around his Quidditch practices which were Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Fridays and Sunday mornings. All in all it going to be Harry's busiest year yet and with the amount of homework he was getting he felt a swell of anxiety for what he had just signed up for despite it being his idea.

The Ministry entourage left shortly after that and Harry was left with only his professors and Tisdale.

"Well done Harry, you handled yourself perfectly," Tisdale complimented.

"Indeed Mr. Potter, very nicely done," McGonagall agreed, speaking for the first time which surprised Harry. He would have expected his Head of House to argue with the Minister over Snape who always tried to play as many sides of the game as possible.

"Why did you say that I would give out press releases?" Harry asked angrily at Snape.

Snape raised an eyebrow at Harry, "and to think Potter that I was nearly impressed with you today. Good thing to know my mental facilities are still in working order. Think boy, the Ministry will undoubtedly issue a release that you are working with them, I insured that you don't have your words turned around on you like they have been in the past."

"You could have made them agree that there would be no press at all! They already have me as their little puppet during these meetings, do I really have to have everyone watch it?"

"Yes Potter! You have to have everyone watch and for once you have to be the one telling them what they are seeing!" Snape answered angrily. "Believe me, the idea that the entire Wizarding World looks to _you_ as not only their inspiration but for guidance is asinine in the extreme. If it were up to me, you wouldn't be considered responsible enough be Quidditch Captain never mind working in this capacity but as both you and I can attest from long experience – we rarely get what we want in this world. The fact is Potter, you are nearly an adult. In a mere 10 months you will be of age in our world and that means that your fame is no longer merely considered precocious, but can be of actual use. It is a weapon and one I suggest that you learn to wield quickly."

Harry seethed, more furious that Snape was actually right than the fact that he would have to go along with this little game. He preferred staying out of limelight. He thought for a minute how strange it was that despite the fact that Ron was his best mate in the entire world, the two of them were so completely different. Ron's greatest desire for as long as Harry had known him was to be noticed. To be special. Head Boy. Quidditch Captain. Standing alone in the limelight so that people couldn't help but take notice. Harry knew that over the years the direction of those fantasies might have shifted but the core was still there. On the other hand, Harry hated being the center of attention with his entire being. He considered it a particular type of hell for people to being staring and whispering around him and would have traded a very large portion of his bank vault to just be a normal Hogwarts student. Mrs. Figg had once told him as a child that the 'grass was always greener on the other side' and he supposed it was true.

Harry nodded his understanding. "Fine," he answered shortly

"Harry I wanted to let you know that I am extremely proud of the man you have become," Dumbledore said, speaking softly. "You have an enormous responsibility on your shoulders as it is and I am sorry that you seem to be forced to take on even more. If I could have stopped it, I would never have allowed the Minister to even offer you such a deal but... as you have learned to your own disservice in the past, there are many limitations to what I am capable of offering you."

"It's alright Sir," Harry said stiffly, at once touched by the man's words and obvious concern and angry with him for once again forcing him to spend more time with the one person that Harry wanted to get away from the most.

Still... "Sir," Harry said addressing Snape, "thank you for sticking up for me in the meeting." His words were sincere, Harry had would have never expected such a gesture and he was not about to appear childish by complaining about him now. He also figured that they were going to be stuck working together than he might as well try his best to keep things cordial.

Snape gazed at him with those unreadable eyes before saying, "see that I don't regret it."

HPHPHPHP

The next day Ron and Hermione were both excited to hear about how the meeting had gone. Ron couldn't believe that Harry was going to get to miss four days of classes to attend the Summit Meeting while Hermione was giddy with the prospect of being in a room with so many foreign dignitaries. She had immediately started thinking of ways to help prepare Harry for the meeting and, not for the first time, Harry was glad to have someone like her help him in a situation that he wouldn't have begun to know how to prepare for alone. He wasn't quite sure what he had just volunteered for but he knew that he didn't want to go in unprepared.

However, the discussion turned a bit awkward when Harry asked them both what they wanted to do for the rest of the day and Hermione informed them rather shyly that she had already made plans with Terry to walk around the lake. Ron once again said nothing about this latest development in their friend's life but his momentary excitement about Harry's meeting had quickly soured to the despondent, listless attitude he had been adopting for a week now.

Both Harry and Ron had needed to work on their homework but after a couple of hours they took a break to practice their flying. All day Ron was preoccupied and it wasn't until they saw Hermione at dinner that he seemed to temporarily snap himself out of his funk.

However, if Harry thought that his day was about to get better he was thoroughly disappointed. Hermione appeared agitated and snapped at both of them during the meal about different things.

"Hermione!" Parvarti called out as they came back to the Common Room. "So... date number 2! How was it? Did he get anything? Chocolate? Flowers?"

Hermione frowned, "it started out fine. He got me lovely flowers and it was such a beautiful day that we even decided to eat out by the lake. But then... did you know that he actually thinks that the proposal to cut funding from the Department of Magical Creatures that was used to protect endangered communities was a good idea? He calls it 'unnecessary funding during war time'! These are creatures that can't protect themselves and haven't done anything to harm anyone."

Parvarti blinked, "Hermione it was a _date_ not a...political debate. If a guy says something that you don't agree with just smile and tell him that you think he's probably right. Guys like being right Hermione and they hate it when you try and prove that you're smarter than them."

Hermione stuttered in disbelief for a moment before finally stating, "that's ridiculous. It's almost the new millennium, are women really supposed to pretend that we're stupid just to stroke men's egos?" she glared at Harry furiously as though he had been the one to suggest such a thing.

"Don't look at me Hermione," Harry said quickly, slightly irritated by the accusation. "I've known you were smarter than me since First Year. Doesn't always make you right," he reminded her quickly lest he get this thrown back in face one day, "but definitely smarter."

She glanced at Ron but the heat of her gaze was not quite as intense. "So I guess this puts paid to you and Terry yeah?" he asked.

"Is that what you think? We have one disagreement and we can't work it out? People fight," she answered hotly, but there was an element of uncertainty in her voice as though she too were nervous that Terry would call it off.

"Really?" Ron asked, his expression turning suddenly nasty. "Because seems to me that you hate not being right all the time. You sure you want to be with someone that's exactly like you? Maybe next time you can actually find someone yourself and not wait for the Sorting Hat to match you up!"

"Maybe I like having someone with their own opinions. Someone who's actually read a Ministry bill instead of turning straight to the Quidditch scores in the paper!"

"Hey don't take it out on me!" Ron shot back. "You're the one using a date as a quiz! Is that what it takes Hermione? Someone has be top of the class for you to even consider them? Well then I really hope you and Terry work it out because if not than it's going to lonely at top for you then, isn't it!" Ron shouted at her.

Hermione looked for a moment as though she was about to hex Ron but instead she turned quickly and stomped up the stairs, Parvarti running quickly after her, no doubt to hear more about what might have happened on the date.

Ron stared after Hermione's retreating back for a moment before hastily grabbing up his bookbag and stalking up the stairs. Harry had a split second of indecision before following his friend up to their thankfully otherwise deserted dormroom.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong or would you rather just start another fight?" Harry asked quietly. He knew from experience that Ron had a nasty temper, and what was worse was that when he became upset he could stay that way for weeks at a time. Still it seemed as though there was more to Ron's tension than simple jealousy over Terry and Hermione, something that had been bothering him for days.

Ron let out a huff of air but continued to pace back and forth, clearly agitated about something. After a few minutes when it became clear that he had no intention of initiating the conversation Harry decided that his friend needed a bit of push.

"Is this about her going out with Terry? Because you heard yourself that that didn't go as well she wanted it to..." Harry asked uncertainly.

"What do you think of Ernie?" Ron asked suddenly. Harry blinked diverted by the question when he couldn't see how the two topics related. But then, as Harry thought about it, Ron's strange mood had started after had come back from his last study session with the Hufflepuff. It had gotten worse after they had presented their projects as well.

"Erm... Ernie's alright. He's a good guy. Reliable. Bit full of himself in my opinion but other than the time Second Year when he was convinced I was the Heir of Slytherin and tried to convince half of Hufflepuff to stay away from me, he's never done anything to me. Even Fourth Year he was pretty decent after I got pitted against Cedric," Harry shrugged. His standards for that moment in time were extremely low. Hermione had been the only one to really stand by him but if memory served Ernie had at least not openly worn a 'Potter Stinks' badge, which was as close to support as he had been likely to get at the time.

Harry couldn't see where any of this was coming from. "Did the two of you have a fight? I thought you were getting along pretty well for your project."

Ron looked up sharply and then down in embarrassment. He looked ready to say something but remained quiet. His hands were fidgeting and he nervously tapped his hands against his thighs as he paced. Harry wasn't sure what to say and instead decided to stay quiet. He tried his hand at a nonverbal locking charm on the door to make sure that they weren't interrupted without bringing attention to the fact that he was trying to give Ron some apparently much needed privacy.

"We... we were getting along pretty well," Ron admitted quietly. "He..." Ron stopped and looked at Harry full on before saying. "He kissed me."

Harry felt his eyes widen and Ron blushed at his reaction. "Er... what did you do?"

"I...I was surprised," Ron answered, clearly flustered. His hands were wringing and he was stamping his foot impatiently as though itching to resume pacing but unwillingly to look away from Harry. A true Gryffindor to the end, Harry mused, afraid of his reaction but determined to see it through anyway.

"So you didn't stop him?" Harry asked carefully.

"I did... but not at first. I was _surprised_ ," he repeated.

Harry nodded slowly trying to think how best to respond. He felt it would have been easier if he had ever suspected that Ron might like boys. Living in a boarding school in a boy's dorm the concept of homosexuality was not a new one. There were quite a few people that Harry suspected of having a preference for the same-sex (Ernie among them) and a few that had been confirmed, but Ron had always seemed interested in girls. One girl in particular in fact.

"Well...was it a good surprise or a bad surprise?"' he asked, and Ron let out a breath as Harry showed more curiosity than criticism of the 'incident'.

"I don't know," Ron admitted. "I- I didn't think of him like that...I mean I've never thought of any...blokes like that." Ron paused and bit his lip before asking. "Have you?"

"Thought about boys? Not specifically," Harry admitted. "I guess the thought's crossed my mind of what it would be like but... I've never been...tempted the same way as when I see a girl, you know? I guess what I mean when I see a girl that I fancy I don't really have to think about it, it just happens. That's never happened with a bloke but I imagine that for some guys it's the same feeling I get with a girl...just with a guy. Does that make sense?" he asked.

Ron nodded before saying, "but I've never even wondered. Not once but... when Ernie... it wasn't as weird as I thought it would be. But... I know I like girls, I do," he insisted.

Harry nodded, "you can like both."

Ron blinked as though this idea had not even occurred to him until that moment.

"Don't you think I would have known that before now?"

Harry shrugged, unsure what to say, "not if there wasn't any bloke that...caught your interest. Are you interested...in Ernie I mean?"

Ron bit his lip, his ears tinged red and Harry could see that at least part of Ron was. Instead of answering directly however he muttered softly, "wouldn't you think it was a bit...weird if...well, you know..."

"You liked blokes? Or started dating Ernie?" Harry asked.

"Both," Ron answered, his voice strangled with tension.

"Ron, you're my best mate, nothing you ever tell me will change that. The only thing I wouldn't want is for you to make yourself unhappy just because you were worried about what I or anyone else thought."

"I don't know how I feel about Ernie," Ron insisted. "And then there's Hermione going on about how the Sorting Hat matched her and Terry up all perfectly and I started thinking..." he shrugged, clearly embarrassed by this admission as well.

"Well if you're asking me if the Sorting Hat has secretly matched us all together with our soul mate or something, no I think that's fairly ridiculous. Daphne and I barely tolerate each other most days and don't forget that Neville is matched up with _Malfoy_ of all people. Not only am I pretty sure that neither one of them is gay, can you picture the two of them together? Good lord I think I would sooner put Neville out of his misery."

Ron chuckled at that one. He seemed slightly more relaxed now that he was finally talking about all that had been bothering him. "I just...don't _know_ though. I mean... we had this great time working on project together but you and I," Ron winced, "you're _my_ best mate Harry and I _never_ thought about you like that but with him..."

"It was different," Harry finished with an understanding nod.

"But I didn't think that it was different until...until he made it different and now...now I don't know," he finished softly, his shoulders slumped. "I started thinking back and I think maybe it was always different than it than with being friends with you. Er...no offense or anything."

"None taken," Harry said seriously. On the whole he was quite happy that if Ron did find that he was attracted to men, he was not one of them. Not because it made him uncomfortable- Harry had spent the last year getting more than a few hopeful glances from Colin Creevy- but because he didn't think that one best friend could feel that kind of attraction for another without it being reciprocated indefinitely without it creating problems.

"The whole thing is just so fucked up right now," Ron moaned.

"Well... that's alright, but maybe you should talk to him about it."

"How do I even do that?" Ron stressed. "It's not even like I can say, 'sorry I don't know how I feel about you'. What am I supposed to say, 'I don't even know if I like guys or not'?"

Harry nodded his understanding, his eyes soft as he said quietly, "I don't think he should hold anything against you if you're honest with him. The only thing you can do is tell him how you feel, how you really feel, and ask him to be patient while you figure it out. Look Ron, it's not like I can give you a lot of advice but if there's anything I learned about relationships from Cho is that you can't just dance around and hope the other person can figure out how you're feeling. Cho and I never would have worked because we couldn't talk to each other and neither one of really wanted to say what we needed to. Things might work out with you and Ernie or they might not. You might find that you like blokes and girls, or you might realize it was a quick kiss that caught you off guard and nothing more but Ron... you're a Gryffindor, I think the best thing you can do for yourself if find out."

Ron closed his eyes and let out a long sigh, a giant weight coming off his shoulders. "Thanks Harry. I don't know who else I could have told this to but..."

"You know I'm not going to say anything to anyone." Harry reassured him, inwardly grateful that the twins had graduated. While Harry knew that even Fred and George knew when not tease someone when they were honestly insecure with themselves, he also knew that Ron was sensitive enough around them to never want to do anything that might bring their negative attention onto him.

The door opened and Dean and Neville came in, and Harry inwardly kicked himself for his unsuccessful locking attempt, too bad doors couldn't be intimidated into locking themselves, he had been quite good at that little trick lately as he remembered the meeting from the day before. Their dorm mates looked surprised to see Ron and Harry deep in conversation. "Where's Seamus?" Harry asked lightly.

"He's on a date with that Hufflepuff Fifth Year," Dean answered.

"The blond with the curves?" Ron asked with a bright smile and Harry shook his head unwilling to say what every boy in the room must have been thinking. To make curves stand out in robes was a truly fantastic accomplishment. The conversation turned appropriately lighthearted after that and by the time they went to sleep, Harry felt certain that Ron was at least temporarily back to his old spirits.

 **A/N: Thanks once again for those still keeping up with this. For the people that have been reviewing every chapter, it's awesome encouragement.**

 **I know this chapter was a bit bogged down with relationship drama that I promised to avoid but it won't be a regular thing and they are 16 so to leave all relationships out seems unrealistic and a bit boring. This was also a chance to have Harry support Ron for a change. I think that as much flak as Ron seems to get for abandoning Harry at certain times in canon, it also seems like there aren't many moments where Harry really gets to support Ron through something he's going through. I wanted to flush out both Ron and Hermione a bit more than 'comic relief' and 'annoying know it all'. So while I said romance was headed for Ron and Hermione, I never claimed that it was with each other!**

 **Next chapter is very Snape and Harry heavy and we'll finally get to see Harry 'mentor' Snape so to speak.**


	22. Climbing to the Summit

**Chapter 22: Climbing to the Summit**

The next couple of weeks seemed to speed by with Harry having so many things to do that it seemed as if the only spare time he ever had was spent sleeping. With only two weeks before the Summit, Harry felt as though there wasn't enough time for him to properly prepare himself for what he was supposed to do. In fact, the more he tried to prepare himself, the longer the list of things he didn't know seemed to grow. Hermione had been invaluable to him, spending hours herself reading about what how meetings for the ICW were run or else digging through old newspaper articles to try and learn who all might be coming and what to expect from each person. For all of her bossiness and at times downright domineering attitude, Hermione truly was a brilliant person and genuinely wanted to help others with the information that she soaked up at super-human rates. However, while Harry did not consider himself to be by any means stupid, he did not have his friend's amazing retention ability and even with her help he found himself overwhelmed. Fitting in all of all of this in around his classes, homework, Quidditch practices and still trying to find enough time to practice spells in the Room of Requirement had left Harry feeling exhausted.

He wasn't even starting his private Auror tutorials until after the Summit and he was once again wondering if he had bitten off more than he could chew with that idea. Though truth be told he was currently putting in a lot more hours preparing for the damn conference than he would be spending on training so he supposed it might actually be an improvement.

"Hey Harry, careful one more inch and your head is gonna fall in your eggs," Ginny's voice commented. "How about some coffee?"

"Cheers Gin," Harry answered tiredly.

"Ugh you look terrible."

"You really know how to lift a person's spirits when they're feeling down, you know that?" Harry grumbled at her.

Ginny shoved his shoulder and reached around him to nip some bacon off of his plate. "Oh cheer up or I'll start thinking that you and Ron have Polyjuiced into each other. Speaking of my esteemed brother, were you the one that finally got his head out of his giant arse?"

Harry chuckled, "and I will be taking gifts for your gratitude. Lay off of Ron, he's not half as bad as you think he is," he added.

"Really? Did you happen to notice that before you managed to straighten him out he made some little First Year practically cry one night when she had the nerve to sit in his favorite chair?" Ginny asked raising her eyebrow.

Harry shrugged, unable to properly defend his friend on that one but unwilling to condemn him when he knew how out of sorts Ron had been feeling. Following their conversation, Ron had pulled himself out of his dark mood but it had taken him another couple of days to decide on an actual course of action. Harry happened to know that Ron had in fact tracked down Ernie in the castle and the two of them had had it out but Harry only knew this much because he had heard it mentioned casually from Justin Finch-Flechley that the two of them had gone off together.

Ron had not come back to Harry with what had been said and Harry was determined not to push Ron to tell him anything before he was ready. He had not seen Ron and his study partner spending any more time together than usual, which meant that it was hard to say how the conversation between the two of them had gone. However, only the day before the Sixth Years had received their next assignment- this time the topic was Care of Magical Creatures, a topic that Daphne was far from excited about- and so whether the issue of their potential-relationship had been resolved or not, the two of them would be spending time together and Harry only hoped that Ron's good mood would be able to continue.

"Everyone has bad day or two Gin," he settled for saying but Ginny shot him an odd look, worried and speculative all at once and Harry wasn't quite sure what to make of it.

"And some people handle their bad moods better than others," she muttered. "Well, anyway, back to you then, at least it's Saturday. Why didn't you just sleep in? You deserve it after the crazy week you've been putting in."

Harry groaned, "Because I'm missing four days of class but I still am responsible for the all work. Because Hermione and Ron have been helping me get ready for this meeting and I now I only have three more days to learn about a lifetime of information and because this is the one day I have to get it all done because tomorrow we have Quidditch practice and I still need to meet Daphne for our next project."

Ginny shot him a sympathetic look before wordlessly filling his cup with more coffee in a show of support. "So when exactly do you leave for your big swanky meeting with the Wizarding World's richest and most snobby?"

"Early Tuesday morning. And it can't come soon enough. Hermione had me in the library till Midnight going over each country's major policy proposals for the ICW and trying to learn each country's delegate's names."

"Are you really expected to know all that before you even get there?" Ginny asked, scrunching her face is distaste.

"Well to start off, most of these people have been doing this for years and they all know each other as though it were some sort of secret club. And apparently each of these people have something they want done and the only way you can get them do something for you is to promise them something in return."

"Can you actually do that?"

"No. I'm can't even vote on our own proposals but Hermione seems to think that people will take me more seriously if I know what's going on. Can't say I disagree but I feel like I've skipped an entire course and I'm sitting down for my NEWTs. Like I said, all of these people have been doing this for years and I'm just playing catch up."

"Right but they must know that you can't know everything yet," Ginny said bracingly

"No but that doesn't mean that I shouldn't go in knowing more than they expect," Harry answered with a grin, before turning more serious. "I don't want to just be their mascot Gin. I want them to take me seriously. I'm not an idiot, I know that just about everyone is expecting me to show up and be some pampered, spoiled Ministry puppet that doesn't have an original thought in his head but I don't want to leave with everyone thinking the same thing."

Ginny frowned slightly at him, "Harry... does this have anything to do with Percy?" she asked quietly.

Not two days after Harry's meeting with Fudge the headlines of the _Daily Prophet_ were once again dominated by Harry's picture and life story. The Ministry proudly announced that after establishing such a good working relationship in helping him sort out a 'difficult family situation', Harry had agreed to work alongside them in their efforts to 'build and lead an International coalition against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named'. The _Prophet_ had also announced that they would be sending three ambassadors to the Summit represent the Ministry and one of them was none other than Percival Weasley, 'a man that has a close working relationship with both the Ministry and Mr. Potter and has shown in the past how well he can balance his professional and personal life.' Harry supposed that to the Ministry that meant abandoning anyone in your personal life for your professional life.

Ron had been livid when he had read the article, furious as always at any mention of his brother who had left the family in the manner that he had done. Hermione had been cautiously optimistic, claiming that it was probably better for Harry to be able to work with someone that he knew rather than a stranger and at the very least they knew that Percy was not a Death Eater that had infiltrated the Ministry. Harry had taken a closer tact to Ron than Hermione. He knew that Percy had used his personal knowledge of the Dursleys not only to help the Ministry corner Harry into helping them but had leveraged that knowledge to get the position that he held now. Memories of the letter that Percy had written the previous year telling his younger brother to 'severe all ties' and the conversation that the two of them had had over the summer were still fresh in his mind. He felt that the two of them had too much bad blood between them for him to consider Percy an ally of any kind, no matter what his family name.

Harry considered Ginny's question, "well, if you're asking if I'm studying or preparing more for the meeting because Percy is going to be there, the answer is no. I- I'm mostly just tired of being the last to know what's going on. I can't trust the Ministry to tell me anything that they don't consider strictly necessary and with Snape being the Hogwarts chaperone or whatever his role is, I can't depend on him either. I don't mind relying on myself for answers, its not anything I'm not used to, but I've learned my lesson about walking into situations blind. But I'll be honest, I wasn't thrilled that it was Percy that was going to be one of the ambassadors."

Ginny nodded but her expression was angry, "can't say I was surprised. Not even by how he did it. I keep hoping that Percy's going to wake the hell up and realize what he's been throwing away all this time but... maybe it's too late. When Percy finally left the house last summer... Harry he was _so_ angry. And Dad... I've never seen him like that. After everyone found out that you were telling the truth about...about You-Know-Who," Ginny stumbled as though she had considered saying the name Voldemort and then reconsidered, "I thought for sure that Percy would be flooing over to see Mum and tell us all that he was sorry for being the world's largest prat but... he's so stubborn. And he's still so angry. I just hope that he doesn't take it out on you, you don't deserve that."

"I can handle myself against Percy, Gin," Harry told her with a slight smile.

Ginny shook her head, her usual light expression turned serious. "I know you can handle it. Trust me Harry if it comes down to you and Percy I wouldn't be worried about _you_ , but you still shouldn't have to. It's just one more thing on a top of a mountain of crap and everyone has a breaking point and if this is yours I will never forgive Percy."

Harry blinked, surprised by the sheer vehemence of her words. He felt like he should feel insulted somehow, having her assume that he must be near some kind of arbitrary breaking point that he himself could not see, but instead he was touched not by her concern but by the strain of pride that she had in voice for the fact that he had not reached it yet. The fact that he had survived but she still wanted to protect him from yet another obstacle, one perhaps she felt responsible for simply because Percy was her brother.

"Thanks Gin," he told her quietly, realizing how natural conversations with Ginny had become in the last few weeks and having it dawn on him that he started becoming as used to speaking to her as he was with Ron and Hermione. Harry had never been in a particularly open person, in the entire time he had been in Hogwarts he had never really considered trying to actively make new friends, and yet somehow he found that talking with Ginny was quite different than speaking with anyone else.

"You better get going, important diplomats aren't going to be impressed with your celebrity status Golden Boy," she told him as she stole his last piece of bacon with a wink.

HPHPHPHP

" _Tell me you have finally found what I am looking for!"_ _Harry hissed in anger at the man in front of him. Coal black eyes stared relentlessly back at him. It was back. That strange, powerful feeling of completeness that had come to him in recent weeks. He had not been able to control it, though he had at times tried to do so. Instead his new gift seemed to come only intermittently, with sudden bursts of understanding, of knowing immediately what lay in the core of a man's soul. He had always been a master of minds but to know the soul...now he was truly all powerful._

 _Candles flickered briefly in the dark room but the only sound came from the whimpers of the man that lay at his feet. It had been for nothing. The man knew nothing but he had known that for several hours. What had started as interrogation had ended as merely punishment, a means to vent his own frustration, but that was over now._

 _He could feel the fear, devotion and awe of the Death Eaters surrounding him. He could feel the delightful_

 _(horrible)_

 _terror and bone-wracking pain of the shopkeeper that could no longer even lift his head to look at him, but from the man in front of him there was a vacuum of nothingness. He should feel angry with the lack of reaction. Furious that even one person was able to overcome his new gift but instead he felt a rare feeling of respect for Severus Snape._

 _Respect for his talent. Proud of himself for securing his loyalty above the old man that had foolishly chosen to forgive what should have been unforgivable. Dumbledore had always been blind to the truth of people, foolishly determined to see the best of them even when no such trust was deserved._

" _Not yet my lord," Snape answered quietly. "Dumbledore does not know where they are either. I have told you that he has the sword- the Potter boy found it after it had been lost year after..."_

 _Fury flashed through his veins._ _ **"After"**_ _the loss of his-_

"Harry! Wake up!" there was harsh slap on his face as his eyes snapped open in shock and alarm, but that wasn't what woke him, the connection was broken in Voldemort's spike of anger. Broken just as Harry was about to find out what Voldemort had lost but he lacked the ability to feel anything about it yet.

He was gasping for air and he Ron was too close to him, hovering inches from his face. He waved his hands, weakly pushing him back. "B-b..."

He couldn't get the words out as his chest constricted and his scar seared with blinding agony. He closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe out even as his lungs struggled for more air. His pulse slowed and he counted to three before breathing in slowly. Count to five, breath out...

"Harry...Harry are you alright?" Ron asked worriedly.

Harry nodded, still dazed, bringing a shaking hand up to his much abused forehead. He glanced at the other boys but Seamus had miraculously slept through the dramatics this time and Dean and Neville and both stayed back. They both shot Harry looks of concern but did not come closer. "Sorry guys...again," he mumbled in their direction, his breath finally coming back to him.

They smiled at him, once again waving off his apology. It was the third time now this term it had happened and Harry had been hoping that at long last the side effects of the _Phantasies interius_ were finally out of his system, but they seemed to be just as strong.

"Common room?" Ron asked quietly.

Harry nodded, still feeling shaky and nauseated, as he stood he experienced a moment of vertigo and his knees nearly buckled under his own weight. He quickly grabbed the post of the bed to steady himself but he could see that Ron had noticed the movement. Harry gave another nod and followed him slowly out of the room,

"Merlin Harry, you're white as a fucking sheet. Are you sure you're alright? It's getting worse, isn't it?" Ron asked, his eyes filled with concern.

Harry said nothing for a moment, his own fears coming to the forefront of his mind. Ron was right, the visions were coming faster and more vividly than they had in the past. In the seven weeks that he had been back at school he had already had three of them and each one left him feeling more physically drained than the last.

"I'm not sure. I think so," he admitted. The truth was every time he woke from a vision, it seemed as though his body had somehow managed to forget just how bad the last one had been, so each time felt as though it was the worst. Harry wasn't sure if he should feel grateful for this little defensive mechanism or not.

"Harry, maybe you should go and see Madame Pomfrey. Have her actually check you out for once."

"I don't think Pomfrey can do anything about this Ron," he answered wearily.

"How do we know that? We've never asked. I don't understand why Dumbledore's never had you...checked out or something by a proper Healer. Even he said this whole thing is...weird," Ron gestured at his scar with sweeping, frustrated hands and his tone was sharp with a combination of anger and fear.

"Right, it's never been seen before so how is she going to know what to do about anything?"

Ron sputtered for a moment, his face turning red, "she could at least try!"

"I'm meeting with Dumbledore later today anyway, he wanted to have another one of those 'lessons' or whatever it is he's been doing with those memories before I left with Snape. And speaking of Snape," Harry added, his expression turning hard. "I think we have a problem."

Ron groaned, "ugh trust me Harry I wish it was Snape for a change but it never is and I really can't take Hermione saying 'I told you so' again." Harry rolled his eyes at his comment but ignored it.

"Voldemort trusts Snape."

Ron paused as if he was waiting for more before saying. "Uh...Harry, _again_ , I hate to play the Hermione role in this scenario because you know I hate the git almost as much as you do but...didn't we already know that?"

"No I mean he really _, really_ trusts him. Snape isn't just some Death Eater that shows up with some potions that he's brewed or supposedly spies on Dumbledore for him, he's like his right hand man!"

Ron raised an eyebrow, "Is that what Voldemort said?"

Harry shook his head, "worse, I felt it. I could feel how...proud? I don't know if that's the right word but he has this... respect for Snape that he doesn't have for just about anyone else. I mean... you have to understand Ron, Voldemort is more than just a psychopath, his mind... it's so completely twisted that I can't really describe to you. He doesn't respect anyone. He thinks _everyone_ is inferior to him. He cares about as much for his Death Eaters as he does about the people that he tortures and kills. But with Snape... there's this..." Harry shook his head, unable to put fully into words that feeling that he had felt as Voldemort.

It was such a strange feeling...experiencing Voldemort's uncensored emotions. For all of their similarities Harry could happily say that he and Voldemort could not think more differently. The way they viewed the world was as different as night as day, one skewing the perception of the other so badly that it was scarcely the same event.

Ron blinked at this startling discovery. "Well... that's good for us, isn't it? That Vo-Voldemort actually trusts him?"

"If he's really on our side, then yeah it's excellent but..." Harry shivered as he remembered that void of emotion that came from his former Occulumency teacher.

"Dumbledore trusts him," Ron responded, but it lacked the positive conviction that Hermione would have had.

Harry sighed and looked down at his hands, "Snape is caught between the two most powerful men in the Wizarding World and both of them are completely convinced that they can trust him, but we know that he has to be lying to one of them...but have you ever wondered that he could be lying to both?"

"You've said this before Harry. You think Snape is on his own side, but what does that mean?"

Harry shook his head, he wasn't sure yet entirely but he did know one thing. "It means that we need to be really careful."

HPHPHPHP

Monday, the night before the Summit Harry knocked on the Headmaster's office and received an unusually tired greeting. For the first time that year he entered the office with a feeling of apprehension that was confirmed when he caught a glimpse of the blackened hand that was quickly being covered by a sleeve.

"Sir! Are you alright?" he asked.

"Not to worry Harry. An accident that proves that age does not always grant us patience or wisdom. But it is no matter. In fact, while the accident was regrettable in some respects, it was extremely helpful in solving another problem I had been struggling with. In the end, I believe that you will see that things usually work out for the best."

Harry frowned at the riddle of this answer but did not press further. "Please Harry have a seat and if you don't mind my own personal inquiries, may I ask how you are coping the latest trespasses on your privacy by the Ministry? Despite how well you have handled yourself since the start of term, I can't imagine it has been easy for you."

Harry sighed as he took a seat, noting that the inquiry from Dumbledore, who know firsthand what it was like to deal with the Ministry, was much easier than it was from so many others. Despite the apparent closure of the investigation by the Ministry, the effects of the articles (along with the revelations and implications that they had wrought) had not disappeared. Only yesterday Harry had come face to face with his own study partner over them.

" _Were they telling the truth? About your relatives?" Daphne had asked after the two of them had been batting ideas back and forth for half an hour over what Creature would be best to use for their project. This time they were far out of Daphne's comfort zone, she had never even taken Care of Magical Creatures for an elective and Harry would have lost a lot of galleons in a bet if he discovered she had ever willingly stepped foot inside the Forbidden Forest. However, the Slytherin was still unwilling to forgo control to Harry, even if she did have to admit that he was more experienced in this subject._

 _The two of them had been working in their little nook of the library. When the question had finally come Harry had not been surprised. Daphne had seemed to have been wanting to broach something with him from the beginning and he was actually reluctantly impressed that the Slytherin had gathered the courage to ask him outright, if not annoyed as well._

" _Parts of it," Harry had admitted, sounding stiffer than he would have liked. "The_ Prophet _always exaggerates everything but my aunt and uncle never liked me and weren't afraid to show it."_

 _Daphne had pursed her lips, her expression caught somewhere between anger and pity though she still strove to project indifference- it was almost comical._

" _What about..." she licked her lips nervously. "...the cupboard. Was that bit true?"_

 _Harry blinked, he had thought that the worst of the article were the details of broken bones and near starvation, he found it rather depressing that the first thing she had zeroed in on was something that was actually true. "Yeah." He said shortly because he wasn't going to hide from it, even if it was none of her business._

" _Muggles," Daphne muttered in disgust._

" _Don't do that," Harry bit out impatiently, angry that so many Purebloods must have been thinking the same thing. "Don't excuse what they did to me because their muggles. It makes it seem like it's alright and it wasn't. They didn't do any of that because they're muggles, they did it because they hated me, they hate magic and they're cruel people. There are good muggles and there are terrible wizards. Have you ever heard of Bellatrix Lestrange? Makes my uncle seem like Santa Clause. People are people and they make their own decisions Daphne. It doesn't matter where you come from or if you can do magic or not, we're still all responsible for our own actions and making excuses based on blood is just...lazy."_

 _Daphne's mouth had opened slightly in surprise and she had colored slightly, though Harry didn't think that was anger. They had gone back to their project after that, though he had been amused when at the end of their session she had asked him who Santa Clause was._

"I've been doing alright sir," Harry said quietly.

"You always do Harry. I told you last year that I have seen you struggling under more burdens than any other student I have seen pass through these halls, but I admit that I am more than a little ashamed that I have contributed to them."

Harry wasn't sure what he should say. Part of him wanted to tell the man that he understood why he had left him with the Dursleys, why things had to be as they were, but another part couldn't quite forgive the man regardless of his intentions.

"I think it's best to leave the past where it is, sir. What's done is done and there's not much that can be done about it."

Dumbledore gave him a penetrating stare, leaving Harry feeling exposed and vulnerable, as though the man could see his every insecurity that he was too proud to show the rest of the world.

"For some, that would be much easier said than done. Avoiding the past is not the same as dealing with it Harry, but I think that you know that better than most. I will respect your wishes if you do not want to discuss this any further but permit me to say two things first. It takes remarkable strength of character to see the best in ourselves when the people that are supposed to encourage us the most fail us in every conceivable manner. You have proven yourself to be a good man Harry and I'm not sure if you are old enough yet to appreciate this but I would value a good man over a great man any day. And secondly, regardless of your strength, I hope I have not given you the impression over the years that you are without help or resources here. I do hope that you know that you can come to me when things become too much."

Harry reddened at the praise from the Headmaster. He wasn't quite sure if he understood the Headmaster's words about valuing a 'good' man over a 'great' one but it reminded him about the first conversation he had ever had with Dobby and felt a shimmer of pride at the words. He also remembered the first time he had met Ollivander, _'after all He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things, terrible yes but great.'_ And Harry thought perhaps he did understand. "Thank you sir but er... I was actually hoping I could talk to you about the vision I had last night."

Dumbledore frowned, "Did you experience the emotions of the other occupants of the room as you did the last time."

"Er...last two times actually. I've... had three of them since the start of term."

Dumbledore's brow raised, "I confess I'm a bit surprised."

"Because you thought that the...side effects or whatever this is from the poison would be over by now?" Harry asked nervously.

"Well yes, but I actually meant that I had expected Voldemort to be trying to employ Occlumency against you after the events at the Department of Mysteries last year."

Harry's eyes widened as the thought about the implications of that statement before thinking back to a particular vision that he had had over the summer. "I think...I think he's been trying to. Over the summer..." Harry paused as he tried to recollect the events of that night in Prince Manor when his scar had been in such vicious pain but no visions assaulted him. He had been ill from his night of inexperienced overindulgence, a detail he preferred not to go into with his Headmaster at the moment, and the effects of the _Phantasies interius_ had made some of his summer memories hazy at best.

"One night when I staying with Snape-"

"Harry," Dumbledore warned.

"Fine Professor Snape, but when I was staying with him, he was called and my scar was burning like crazy. He was furious about...about something but I couldn't see it. It was...like it was blocked off from me somehow. I forgot about it until now but I remember thinking that he must be trying to Occlude and it wasn't working."

Dumbledore was listening carefully to everything that Harry had to say, weighing his words against knowledge that Harry could only guess at.

"Were there other visions this summer as well?"

Harry nodded, his expression grim, "yes but those I know he wanted me to see. It wasn't anything to do with his plans or about his Death Eaters," Harry swallowed. "It was when he was attacking muggles or people that had crossed him." After a moment or two of silence Harry finally broached a topic that had been bothering him all summer. "It never would have worked, would it?"

Dumbledore seemed to be broken out of whatever thoughts he had been having and looked slightly startled by the question, "I beg your pardon Harry, what wouldn't have worked?"

"Me learning Occlumency. Sn-Professor Snape told me it's about blocking outside invasions of the mind but whatever is connecting me to Voldemort is...inside me," Harry said with distaste. It was a disgusting thought, the idea that he had...something from that murderer inside of him. It felt ugly...tainted. But he also knew that it was the truth and hiding away from it as he had once tried to do during the Christmas holidays of Grimmauld Place would not help him.

Dumbledore looked both old and guilty as he said, "I had hoped it would but... I had not expected much. Please do not blame Severus for withholding this information from you, I never told him of my doubts. He was under the impression that the lessons would work but a connection such as the one you share with Voldemort is truly unique. I am sorry that I could not offer a better solution but I felt that it was better to try a long shot than offer no solution at all. I apologize now if you feel you disagree."

Harry narrowed his eyes, "I would have liked it if you had told me the whole truth," he admitted. "Explain why I needed the lessons, why you thought they would work, why you thought they might not. I... I've always trusted you sir but last year it felt like...like I done something wrong. Like you were angry with me because Voldemort was back, and the Ministry was giving you a hard time for believing me, and... for Cedric dying." Harry shook his head, remembering that feeling of lonely abandonment when the Headmaster would not so much as look at him with no explanation.

Dumbledore looked at him sadly but did not offer excuses, something Harry appreciated. He didn't need an apology at this point, and he certainly didn't need to hear that it was all for the best, but he did need for the man to hear that he had hurt him with his actions.

Harry took a breath and using a sense of Slytherin cunning that he generally reserved for his interactions with the Dursleys, felt that now was the best moment to bring up the next piece of information that he had. When Dumbledore was feeling guilty for failing him in the past- because as much as Harry needed the man to know what he was about to say, he was almost certain that it was about to fall on deaf ears.

"Sir... I told you that I can feel how the other Death Eaters are reacting to Voldemort and how he feels about them... but last night Sn- Professor Snape was there," he said hesitantly. Dumbledore had always defended the Potion's Master at every turn but Harry could not shake that horrifying feeling of... connection that Voldemort had felt for the man. It had been with him all day, crawling beneath his skin. The feeling that Voldemort had finally found a man truly worthy of following him.

"I believe that you are well aware of the role that Professor Snape plays in this war," Dumbledore replied evenly.

"Yes sir... it's just, I know that you trust him sir. I know that you think that he's on our side and that you know more about it than I do. I'm sure that you do," Harry admitted with difficulty. And it was true, Harry didn't doubt that Dumbledore had a reason for trusting Snape but unlike Hermione or the rest of the Order, without knowing the reason himself he was not prepared to take Dumbledore's word alone that the reason was good enough. "You have your reasons for trusting him sir but I want- I _needed_ to let you know that Voldemort trusts him too. And it's more than that," Harry shivered as he remembered the cold feeling of satisfaction that settled for trust from Voldemort. "Voldemort... he doesn't actually care about his Death Eaters, you know?"

Dumbledore nodded, "indeed Harry, a point I had planned on making with you soon in our lessons but I see that you have discovered it for yourself."

Harry nodded before plowing forward, "well the thing is Professor, Voldemort respects Snape in a way that he doesn't with the others. He trusts him, as much as you do, sir."

Dumbledore pursed his lips, studying him for a moment. He seemed to be weighing something in his mind before he spoke. "Harry, I have told you before that I have my reasons for trusting Severus, if you trust me than I feel you should trust my judgment. I know that the two of you have suffered your own disagreements and as I've said before, I have never expected the two of you to like one another on a personal level but I think that we can recognize the importance of putting aside our personal feelings and working towards the...doing what is best. Severus is a very good man, in spite of everything else- the anger, the bitterness, the mistakes that he has made in his life- he is a very good man and if you trust nothing else about him, I hope you can trust that."

Harry frowned at the word 'mistakes'. Harry often felt that at times he was one of the few people that remembered what it truly meant that Snape had, at least at one time, been a true Death Eater.

Death Eaters were murderers. Without exception, every one of them eventually killed someone. Voldemort considered it a rite of passage. It seemed to Harry that everyone else in the Order was polite enough to ignore it. Snape had said he was sorry, so surely that was enough. Well perhaps it was enough for Dumbledore, who always believed in second chances, and maybe enough for the Order that never seemed to question a word the Headmaster said but Harry was not sure if it was enough for him. Was it even his right to forgive a man who murdered someone else's family? Who had taken someone's father, or someone else's husband? Perhaps it had been someone's child- after all everyone was somebody's child. Who was Harry to decide if the man who killed someone that meant the world to another person was forgiven?

Harry said nothing but Dumbledore could obviously see the thoughts right on his face, perhaps truly read the thoughts from his mind. The aged Headmaster sighed, closing his eyes briefly in thought, when he opened them again, he seemed to have come to some sort of resolution. "Harry... over the summer when you raised your concerns about Severus you asked me if I would have ever considered hurting someone because they had hurt me or someone that I cared about. You assumed the very best of me and I very much appreciate your good faith me in. But I can quite honestly say that I was not always the person that I am today. I am an old man Harry, one that has lived long enough to know the pain of regret. To know from experience that the decisions that we make in our youth are not the decisions that we are forced to make again and again. People are capable of change Harry. It is a difficult and very painful process but we are capable of it, if it something that we truly desire.

"You are a remarkable person not only for the fact that you have survived so many hardships and cruelties in your life but you have done so with grace and without turning bitter nor cruel. You are a kind person that cares about others even more than yourself. I can imagine how hard it is for someone like yourself to understand, let alone forgive behavior like Severus' has been in the past. Like my own," the Headmaster admitted quietly. "And yet from what I have seen you are an incredibly forgiving person Harry and so I ask this of you- during your trip, take a moment to see Severus with a clean perspective. Allow yourself, for a moment, to forget the personal disagreements and past hurts that he has caused you and see Severus as he is right now. Not as a lost and angry teenager, perhaps not even as bitter and at times cruel teacher, but as a man that is quietly trying to atone for crimes that no one regrets more than himself. If you do that," Dumbledore paused, "and afterwards if you truly still have concerns about his loyalty, come back to me and I will reconsider everything that you have to say. Do we have a bargain?"

Harry noticed after a moment of silence that his mouth was open in surprise. He was well and truly shocked by the offer that he had just received. By the information that he just received. What had Dumbledore done in his past that he was so ashamed of? Would the Headmaster truly consider his concerns if he came back with them or was this just his way of getting Harry to agree with him? Even if Harry took the deal, could he truly look at Snape objectively? Set aside all of the things that he man had done and said to him over the past five years?

Harry raised his head to look at Dumbledore directly in the eyes, "I'll do my best sir."

At that, the Headmaster smiled, "of that I have no doubt Harry. You always do. But enough of this for the moment, for now I think its best that we take another stroll down memory lane."

And so for the remainder of the evening Harry was able to see a young Tom Riddle receive his Hogwarts letter. Discover that he truly was 'special' and show an unnatural affinity for cruelty and secrets even as a ten year old.

HPHPHPHP

On the morning that he was to leave for the Summit Harry awoke early, too anxious to sleep much past the first peak of dawn. Even though he couldn't think of a single thing he could have done to be more prepared than he was, he still wasn't at all sure what he was doing and wondered if he hadn't bitten off more than he could chew with this little deal that he had made. It had certainly seemed to make sense at the time. On the one hand, he was glad that he had been able to arrange the terms that he had. He was glad that he was not some hapless stooge of the Ministry that was expected to nod along with some sort of insipid smile on his face the whole time. He had actually been a bit surprised that the Ministry had agreed to Tisdale's conditions and Harry said a silent thank you to his godfather for leaving him with such a valuable asset at a time when he needed it most.

Still he knew enough to know that the Ministry still had a few tricks up its sleeve and that he should be on the lookout for when they would try to exert their control. He supposed that was where Percy came in. The older boy, along with his colleagues, had full autonomy to make all of the decisions and would make up the real power from the Ministry. Harry would have almost been impressed with the red-head for achieving such a position so young if not for the fact that Harry recognized that Fudge liked Percy because he was spineless and would do whatever he was told.

He thought over his agreement with Dumbledore, to try and be impartial when it came to judging the intentions of Severus Snape. It was a hard thing to do. From the first night Harry had spent in the castle he had known that the man had hated him and he had never once given a Harry a reason not to return the sentiment. Snape had held onto his own feelings of hatred for Harry's father 15 years after the man had died, but... did Harry really want to do the same? He remembered his thoughts about the Dursleys, how they weren't worth hating, and wondered if he could try the same with Snape. He didn't have to like him but Dumbledore was right that he had to judge things properly. For years he had been suspicious of the man, anxious- eager even- to accuse him of wrongdoing. But Ron was right- offhand as he might have meant it- it never was Snape. And the stakes were too high for his own personal feelings to get in the way of knowing for certain who he could trust.

He would try. He would watch the man carefully during their four day trip and he would see if he could see what Dumbledore- or Voldemort- truly saw when they placed such unfailing trust into enigmatic Potion Master's hands.

He made his way down to the school gates wearing his best cloak and his best school uniform, angry with himself for only buying one set of nice robes over the summer and having them destroyed in his flight into the forest. He had not had enough time to replace them and he didn't like the fact that he was about to enter into a multinational arena with the appearance of an ignorant schoolboy. Then again, Martin Tisdale had once told him that there were advantages in being underestimated. He knew full well how he would be seen regardless of how he dressed... perhaps completing the picture would actually be helpful in projecting the right image. After all, if there was one benefit about being seen as young and inexperienced it was that adults always seemed more inclined to help kids rather than other adults.

"You have nothing more appropriate to wear?" Snape asked in way of greeting him, his eyebrow raising in censor. Annoyance flared in Harry as he was reminded of the various times Vernon had greeted Harry with insults about his appearance, but it was not completely lost on him that the man had at least taken the time to genuinely ask this time rather than degrade and belittle him for his lack of proper attire as he had over the summer.

"I only bought one set of dress robes over the summer, I didn't think I would really need them," Harry answered honestly, his nervousness taking the usual bite out of his response when dealing with Snape, more so than any resolution to give him a chance. "I suppose I could ask St. Mungos if there's anything left after they probably cut me out of them," he added drily.

Surprisingly Snape looked vaguely amused at this little quip. "I had anticipated your lack of forethought in planning a wardrobe and took the liberty of acquiring you a set of black formal robes for the state dinner. I trust that you will be better prepared the next time the Ministry calls upon you?"

Harry blinked in surprise that the man would think of getting him an appropriate outfit, he had never before seemed capable of thinking of another person's needs. "Er... thank you sir. I'll pay you back for the robes."

Snape raised an eyebrow and from the way his mouth tightened he looked as though he about to object before giving a simple nod. They were thankfully interrupted by the arrival of the Ministry officials, Percy leading the way, his face full of smug pride. Harry suppressed a groan with difficulty. This was going to be a test of his patience. Severus Snape and Percy Weasley- two people that knew how to push all of his buttons and he was going to be trapped with them for two days straight. And over the coming months there was no way of knowing how many more times they would be stuck together.

"Professor Snape... Mr. Potter I trust that you are both ready to leave?" Percy asked with authority. Snape gave him a sneer and Harry gave a stiff nod, not wanting to say anything more than was strictly necessary to the man that had helped put him in this position, and was then rewarded for it by leading the delegation.

"Severus," a tall man greeted, inclining his head politely if not actually warmly, "and Mr. Potter, allow me to introduce myself, my name is Stanard Greengrass, I believe you might know my niece Daphne as she is in your year here at Hogwarts."

"Yes sir," Harry answered accepting the handshake the man offered, "actually Daphne is my study partner for the Sixth Year assignments that we've been doing. It's nice to meet you."

"Pleasure is mine I'm sure," Greengrass answered politely, though again his expression held no genuine warmth.

"And I'm Alana Pickleton," the third person in the delegation announced, also holding out her hand. She was petite woman with dark, wavy hair and the type of build that seemed both delicate from its size but somehow powerful that women seemed to achieve so much better than men who generally needed the size to make the same impression. "We'll be the team making up the official ambassadors for the trip. I think you'll find our time at the Summit very educational Mr. Potter, if you have any questions please feel free to ask one of us. I know this must be a difficult position for you to be in."

Harry smiled at her, surprised that one of the Ministry officials would even acknowledge how hard this position might be for him. He was extremely nervous about having to talk to a bunch of seasoned politicians about the war. He hated having so much attention on himself. For a moment he fleetingly thought of how wonderful it had been to be Jimmy Evans. No responsibility. No expectations. It was so much easier to meet people when they weren't expecting you to be 'The Chosen One' but instead just met you as an ordinary person.

"Thank you ma'am, I appreciate it. I'm sure that I will have a lot of questions."

The five of them would be accompanied by three Aurors, apparently it was common practice for all delegates to be surrounded by guards of some sort. Harry found it rather funny that a bunch of people convinced that everyone else in the room was out to get them could work well together but he was too used to the feeling of having to watch his own back for it to bother him overly much.

"Good, good, now that we've all met, we should really be going, it wouldn't look good for us to be the last delegates to arrive," Percy said this with a frown in Harry's direction despite the fact that he and the other ministry officials had been the last to arrive.

Harry knew that it bothered Percy that he was included in the delegation at all, just another way in which the Boy-Who-Lived got perks that he, Percy, had had to work long and hard for. Considering that Percy's judicial use of personal knowledge against Harry had landed him this position in the first place, Harry thought that the redhead should be a bit more grateful towards him.

"Hey Harry! Good to see you!" A greeting from one of the Aurors grabbed Harry's attention.

"Fang! Nice to see you as well. I would have thought that you would be too good for a glorified babysitter job," Harry commented honestly. The man held a commanding position in the Aurors after all, surely bodyguard duty fell to lower ranked people?

"You kidding mate? A chance to guard the _famous_ Harry Potter? This was considered a choice assignment, I had to make three deals to get this detail. Take into account the fact that you actually know how to defend yourself and," Fang leaned in rather conspiratorially as he spoke low enough so that most likely only Snape overheard as he eyed the other officials with a hint of displeasure, "you aren't a complete wanker like the usual lot that go to these things and it's a little wonder why you're so popular."

Harry grinned at him, "well if you want me to be an Auror with you, you should explain your detail patterns to me so that I can learn," he offered hopefully.

Fang chuckled, shaking his head at Harry's audacity, "right on. I'll do you one better, we have to make the journey in two legs- one by carriage and one by train for security reason and there's going to be about a one to two hour delay between them, my partner and I will show you a couple of stealth tracking charms we use, alright?"

"Brilliant, thanks."

"We have a schedule to maintain, we really have to be _going_ , if you don't mind Auror Sloane," Percy interrupted, clearly irritated.

"Right away sir, sorry to keep you waiting," Fang replied with cheerful courtesy, before slipping Harry a wink that clearly showed that what he thought about 'usual wankers'.

Harry trailed slightly behind the others, hoping to keep at least a bit of distance between himself and two people that set his temper off, but it was a wasted effort. The coaches that they were taking were small enough that Harry found himself sitting directly next to Snape and across from Percy. The coaches were pulled by Thestrals and it did not escape Harry's notice that Percy was the only one of the group that did not seem to see the ghastly creatures. Just before entering the carriage Harry ran his hand down the skeletal coat, whispering a thank you for their help from the year before, his mind suddenly caught in thoughts of his godfather.

Snape gave him an odd look, for once it was not condescending or angry; there was not even the usual impatience that Snape usually directed at him. Harry wasn't sure what the potion's master was thinking but stopped himself from speaking. Snape had been strangely civil to him lately and though Harry was not at sure what had caused the change, he found that he was at least willing to maintain the truce for the moment. Perhaps Dumbledore had also challenged Snape to look at Harry with fresh eyes. He thought back to the last few weeks in Potions class and realized the man had been almost neutral in his interactions. He ignored Harry stoutly but Harry was used to this behavior both from the Dursleys and from how Snape had acted after the Pensieve accident the previous year. Harry had not thought much about the fact that Snape never stopped to speak- or criticize him- in class but was beginning to wonder if perhaps it had been more unusual than he had originally thought.

Once the door of the carriage closed Percy launched into lecture mode, "We need to make a few things perfectly clear. Mr. Potter is not a voting delegate, nor does he have any actual negotiating powers. You were brought here, simply put, because other countries will be more open to alliances once they see that you are on board."

"I haven't said that I'm on board with anything," Harry cut in with quiet firmness. He had made his position clear from the start and he would not back down. He had spent the night thinking about what needed to be said and he found Percy's attitude was helping him find the anger that he needed to put the strength behind his words. He was not ready for all of this, he had never liked the spot light, nor had he ever enjoyed making decisions for others. But he would not allow his name to be used for any purpose the Ministry had in mind at the moment.

"Don't be under the impression that the Ministry has me over some sort of barrel Percy."

Percy scowled at the use of his familiar first name, another reminder that Harry that knew the real Percy Weasley and not just the Ministry bureaucrat that liked to hide behind his own imagined authority. However, he said no more about it and Harry settled in for an uncomfortable two hours of silence and tension. The two other Ministry officials made a few polite comments here and there but they seemed unconcerned with actually keeping up conversation and Harry found himself at once relieved that he was not forced into speaking more than he wanted to, and increasingly anxious as the silence seemed to only stretch the waiting time until the Summit when he would have to actually meet with the other delegates.

When the carriage reached their destination in an isolated valley that would ensure their secrecy both from the muggles and from other wizards, Harry had a bit a time to spend with the Aurors. Like Fang, his colleagues were a cheery lot and more than eager to share with Harry their knowledge. They taught him a few spells that would let him know if someone was following him as well as few that would help him follow someone else. Considering he was still nervous about what Malfoy and others were doing in the castle Harry felt this was extremely good information to have.

They were quite difficult and Harry had yet to master any of them in the allotted time but he at least had the basics down enough that he would be able to practice. He knew that if he showed Hermione she would be able to figure it out and help him and resolved to add it to his practice sessions. He wanted to have them figured out before he able to meet with whichever Auror was going to train him in the hopes that his new teacher might be impressed with the extra effort. He knew that by making this bargain with the Ministry Harry was going to be seen as getting special treatment, something he had always wanted to avoid, but the training was important enough that he didn't care what people thought. Still he thought it make a better impression if he didn't come off as a spoiled git that was using his famous name to get himself favors to whoever was going to be assigned to teach him.

HPHPHP

When they finally boarded the train for the final leg of their journey, Harry was able to at last escape Percy's presence. The train was being used by a few different delegations to ensure privacy but still maintain efficiency, however, their group still had a few compartments to themselves. With the extra room, Harry had quickly claimed the furthest compartment. He was surprised when Snape of all people opened the door and entered when he had expected the man to take advantage of the fact that he could get out of his presence for a while.

"I thought it best that we have the opportunity to make a few points clear before this trip gets underway, don't you think?"

Harry stiffened. He should have known that things had been going along too easily. Snape wouldn't let Harry have a say in anything important. In a sense of déjà vu Harry felt as if he were back in Snape's office asking about his visions of Voldemort, asking to know what they meant and being told that they didn't concern him. His visions. Of no concern to him.

"Yeah I think it's probably best if we were on the same page," he said slowly.

Snape closed the door and crossed to take a seat across from Harry. He was silent for a moment and Harry wasn't sure if the man was trying to intimidate him or was merely trying to figure what to say first.

"You've been given an enormous responsibility Potter. Make no mistake, the fact that you don't have any 'official negotiating power' or that you are not a voting delegate means very little. As I said before, you are no longer a child and while you may have never asked for this position nor properly earned it... you've now accepted it."

"You don't think that I should have." It wasn't a question.

Snape paused, his black eyes as unfathomable as they ever were. There were a great many things that Harry had always disliked about the potions professor but the fact that he had never been able to read a single thing other than pure distain or else fury from his face was chief among many others.

"On the contrary," he said quietly and Harry blinked in surprise. "As I stated before, I was nearly impressed with how you conducted yourself with the Minister. You have... grown this year. Using your head instead of rushing into situations that are well beyond your abilities. This conference is not beyond your abilities but it is well at the limit of them and," Snape added holding up a hand to forestall Harry's indignant protest, "that is not meant as insult. There is a reason why politics is a career, Potter. The people that are attending this meeting have been working others longer than you have been alive. They are all smart, they all have their own agenda, and they are all selfishly motivated to achieve it. They will lie to you, they will manipulate you, and others will simply dismiss you but... I believe they will also underestimate you.

"Potter, it is no secret that the two of us have never seen eye to eye and I don't expect that to ever change. However there is one trait that the two of us have in common- stubbornness. Determination. I'm a Slytherin for a very simple reason Potter- I know what I want and I go after it with everything that I have to get it. If I have to lie, I lie. If I have steal, I steal, and if I have to do worse..." Snape allowed the thought to trail off and Harry was slightly shocked at what the man had alluded to, his thoughts trailing back on his conversation with Dumbledore about what Snape was capable of.

"What's you point?" Harry bit out more harshly than he intended, his thoughts running away from him.

"Have you ever thought about why it is that you want to fight in this war Potter?" Snape asked abruptly. Harry was so startled by the question that his jaw dropped slightly and he blinked dumbly at the man.

"I meant what I said," Snape elaborated, "if there is one trait that the two of us share, it's determination for a task that we care about, but it occurs to me that perhaps no one has ever once asked you why it is that you want to fight against the Dark Lord. Is it revenge, Potter?" he asked softly.

"Would it make a difference if it was?" Harry threw back. "Revenge can be pretty good motivation in my experience."

"It would be a simple answer," Snape responded, his tone thoughtful in a way that Harry had never heard it before, "an answer, quite frankly that wouldn't have surprised me last year but I've begun to see that _perhaps_ there is a deeper pool underneath than I first anticipated."

Harry raised his eyebrows; that was quite nearly a compliment. Harry let out a slow breath as he remembered his father's words from the dream-like vision he had had early in the summer.

" _Harry, you need to ask yourself if this is your fight."_

" _I have never known you to make a selfish or wrong decision when it's truly counted."_

Harry had spent the last few months thinking about that very question. He had been reading his parents letters and journals. Seeing first hand their increasing worry and anxiety for not only the war and their friends but especially for their infant son but nevertheless their values had never wavered. Never once had either of them ever expressed a moment of regret for standing up against Voldemort even when it meant putting a target on their backs.

Harry wrung his hands together, he had thought about this for quite some time but he had never expected it to be Snape of all people that would actually ask him about why he wanted to fight. He hadn't even shared these thoughts with Ron and Hermione but... the man had asked and Harry felt a small strain of respect for the man for actually asking him instead of assuming like everyone else that Harry would fight till the end without question.

"I don't think that I can get revenge," Harry admitted quietly. "I mean... I could kill him and it would be done but... my parents...everyone that he killed that is, would still be dead. It wouldn't bring them back and honestly... I don't think that my mum died for me just so that I could spend my life trying to make up for it. I think..." Harry shook his head, Snape didn't want to hear what some 'mudblood' would have wanted her orphaned son to do. No, Snape had asked him for his reasons and Harry wasn't completely sure why he decided to be completely honest with a man that he was so ambivalent about, but perhaps he was simply tired of the constant misunderstandings between them. For once Snape was asking for the truth instead of making an assumption about him and Harry found that he couldn't resist showing the man that had not been running blindly after a madman simply because he was too stupid to do things any differently. This was a fight Harry wanted and he would not rest until it was done.

"Anyway, I fight against Voldemort because I hated every single second that I spent at the Dursleys. I hated every time that we had Parents' Day in primary school and the teacher would give me this really awkward look like maybe I'd forgotten that I didn't have any parents and she had just reminded me. I hate that people tell me what my parents would think, or do, or say and I have absolutely no idea if they're right because I didn't know them. And the truth is, nothing is ever going to change that. Killing Voldemort, watching him die, it won't change anything. But if he's dead, then someone else won't have be raised by their muggle uncle that hates them. And someone else won't have to watch the person that they care about die in front of them. What Voldemort does is... it's wrong. And if I never tried to do anything to stop it, I would be wrong too."

Snape was silent for a moment before he said softly, "and you are far too stubborn to willingly be wrong."

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his seat. This was the strangest conversation he had ever had with Severus Snape. He kept waiting for the man to sneer at him. Tell him that he was stupid and arrogant and that he didn't have the faintest idea what he was talking about. Never once in over five years had Snape given Harry the benefit of the doubt. From the moment he had stepped into the man's classroom as a naïve eleven year old whose knowledge of magic had consisted of one month spent studying inside locked in his bedroom while his family had judiciously ignored his very existence, the man had been determined to think the very worst of him. If there was a problem in class- Harry had caused it. If there potions ingredients missing from his stores- Harry had stolen them. If the _Daily Prophet_ had ripped apart his life and humiliated him- Snape read the article aloud in class. And yet here he was, sitting there listening to Harry bear his conscience about the war and not judging what he had to say.

"A truly...Gryffindor answer."

Harry shrugged, unsure if the man was insulting him or not. There was no vicious sneer or mocking tone, if anything there was something thoughtful in the other man's tone. "Not really. I mean fighting is brave I guess, but its about more than that. You only have this one life and at the end of it- no matter when that might be, I don't want my final moments or seconds spent wishing I had done better. Wishing I could have been better."

Snape raised his eyebrows at that line, his expression still thoughtful before he finally nodded, seemingly satisfied with his answer in a way that the man had never before seemed to be about anything Harry had done. "Careful Potter that almost sounds... ambitious," he muttered quietly, more to himself than to Harry. Harry didn't respond, if Snape needed a Slytherin reason to fight, Harry would not take it away.

After another moment of silence, Snape cleared his throat, "Potter... since you brought them up... why did you go to such lengths to protect your aunt and uncle? From what I've come to understand about them, they hardly seem worth the effort. If you were a different sort of person I would imagine that perhaps you felt that you deserved their treatment towards you, but you hardly strike me the type to allow such behavior."

Harry sighed wearily, he was tired of this conversation and he knew if there was one person that could never understand him on this- it was Snape. The man had held onto every slight ever committed against him. He considered his options but his new strange candidness was strangely nice. Snape was actually listening but he still didn't want to press his luck with the answer that he had for him.

"Professor...we're not at school, right? Which means that if I say something you don't like...you can't give me detention or threaten to expel me, isn't that right?" Harry asked.

Snape arched his brow and his black eyes seemed to burn with a return of their usual rage. "In school or not I expect you to treat me with respect Potter. Trust me... you would do well to remember that there are other ways of punishing you other than detention and losing House Points."

Harry grimaced, "I mean to say that I don't think you'll like my answer but I know that you hate lies more. So I guess I'm asking if you really want to know."

"I admit that you have peaked my curiosity Mr. Potter. Very well, I consider myself forewarned."

Harry bit his lip, wondering if he could really admit to what he was about to say, well there was a reason that Harry ultimately was a Gryffindor and not a Slytherin. "For a long time... the Dursleys were just these people that I had to survive until I was old enough to leave. I remember when I was a kid I used to have this...fantasy about some long lost relative coming and telling me there had been a terrible mistake and I was supposed to be living with them." Harry smiled slightly as his heart gave a twinge for Sirius. How many times had his godfather been stuck alone in his cell, clinging to his sanity and perhaps wishing that they could be together? How many times had they made that wish at the exact same time?

"While other kids were thinking about what they wanted to be when they grew up, I was thinking about how far away I would move and never come back. And then Hagrid gave me the letter to Hogwarts and that was all that mattered because I was finally leaving. Ten months out of the year I would never see them. That was good enough but...I spent a lot of time wanting for someone to pay them back. For them to feel as bad as I did and then know that it was happening because they should have treated me better. There were little things of course. Fred and George got my cousin to swallow this candy that made his tongue grow like four feet and all I could think of was that he deserved it for all times he and his mates went after me as a kid." Harry smiled slightly at the memory of that chaotic afternoon at Privet Drive with Vernon throwing china figurines at flustered Arthur Weasley while Petunia tried to practically rip out Dudley's tongue, before he remembered the lingering fear on Dudley's face and he turned serious once more.

"And then I talked to Dudley this summer and he was terrified the whole time and suddenly it just wasn't... worth it. Honestly professor, when I think about wanting or needing to get back the Dursleys I- I think about what I saw in your pensieve," Harry said it quietly, ending in a wince and expecting an explosion.

Instead Snape narrowed his eyes, and spoke in the silky tone that designated tightly controlled emotions. "Indeed. And how pray tell do you make that connection."

Harry sucked in a breath. "First of all... in spite of everything else that happened last year, I am sorry about looking in your pensieve... it was wrong. I know that. I knew it at the time and I did it anyway. It's not an excuse, but if you ever wanted an explanation I didn't think that you were hiding personal information, I thought that you were hiding information for the Order."

"And you feel that it makes it better that you were only snooping to find classified secrets that the Order was using to help win a war against a dangerous megalomaniac? You felt that _you_ were entitled to whatever information there was in the war, regardless of how dangerous or who it endangers?" Snape asked furiously.

"Yes," Harry answered simply, holding his ground. It wasn't the answer Snape expected, that much was clear by the rare sight of surprise on his expression, which quickly turned back to anger.

"Then you truly are as arrogant as I always thought you to be."

"Arrogant or not- this is my war," Harry answered, his voice growing louder. "Not just mine, I know that. I can't beat Voldemort by myself, hell I don't know if I could beat him with Dumbledore and 1000 wizards next me but I know that it's still at least partly mine. I was having visions of the Department of Mysteries for a year. About a prophesy with _my_ name on it. You knew that, and you said nothing. Dumbledore said nothing. The Weasleys and Remus and Tonks- even Sirius. You all said nothing.

"' _Don't worry Harry. Everything's fine. Voldemort's tried to kill you a five or six times and none of us were ever there to help you but believe us we have it this time_.'

"I was 15. I never expected you to let me fight in a battle. I never expected you to tell me every detail. But I did expect that someone would tell me the parts that concerned me. How was my scar connected to Voldemort? What did these visions mean? Could they be helpful or were they going to kill me eventually because sometimes it felt like my head was splitting open! So yeah, I looked in your pensieve because I thought, 'finally some answers! And of course I would have to find myself, because when has anyone ever helped me'."

Harry hadn't meant for all of that to spill out, not to Snape. It was one thing for him to bring up the lingering bitterness from the previous year to his friends and people that cared about him, but bearing all his childish insecurities to Snape was downright horrifying. The man would care nothing for the long, sleepless nights Harry had spent last year, consumed by his own anxiety and stress.

Snape frowned deeply as he snapped, "and did it ever once occur to you ask for help? If you honestly were under some deluded impression that these visions could actually harm you, did you ever come to someone with your concerns?"

"I asked you!" Harry snarled at him. "Our first lesson when you were going on about how 'reading-minds-isn't-really-reading-minds-," Snape sneered once again but Harry spoke over the expected retort, "I asked you why we were doing this all you said was that Dumbledore wanted it done. You never answered my questions and Dumbledore didn't so much as look at me last year. Who was I supposed to ask? Sirius didn't know and I didn't want to worry him."

"Black had little else-"

"Sirius was trapped and made useless by people that said it was to protect him. I saw what the 'Order's protection' does to someone." Harry gasped at his own words, he hadn't meant to say that. Not even to Snape. Especially to him because Snape would-

"Black is dead for many reasons none of which are because he stayed in his psychotic mother's house for a year," Snape snapped.

"You mean it's my fault," Harry said quietly, honestly surprised that the man hadn't said it outright.

"I didn't say that, is that what you believe?" Snape asked cagily.

Harry breathed out his nostrils and steadied himself before he answered. "No. I could have done a lot of things differently that night but in the end I would have always done everything that I could to save Sirius, and I did. Just because I failed doesn't make it wrong. I told you, in the end I don't want to wonder if I could have been a better person. Turns out I could have been a smarter one. I could have been better prepared. But I also didn't turn away from the person that I cared about most just because it was dangerous. I did the best that I could and at first I think that bothered me the most. The fact that my absolute best wasn't good enough... but at least I don't have to sit up and wonder each night if I could have tried harder."

Snape was silent, his dark eyes as expressionless as ever but there was a... tension to him that Harry could not quite interpret. Something about his words had affected the man strongly but Harry was not sure exactly how.

When he spoke again his voice was rough, strangled almost, "and how does any of this relate to your muggle relations Potter?"

Harry released a slow breath, still shocked at himself for speaking so openly with Snape of all people. "What my dad and Sirius did to you was... disgusting. I never thought that my dad would do something that like and for the first time I could understand why you hate them so much." Snape's brow was arched and he was clear that he could not see how the two things related. This was the part that Harry was most nervous about confessing. The part that might very well make the next four days untenable but Snape had asked- and Harry did not tell lies.

"But it also happened 20 years ago. My dad has been dead for 15 years and Sirius has been dead for 6 months and you still hate them. You won and you still hate them. If that's what revenge does, I don't want it. Not with the Dursleys and not even with Voldemort."

Harry could feel a buzz of magic, similar to what escaped him when he was feeling particularly angry or upset, but this time it came from the dark clad professor staring down at him with unfathomable black eyes. It wasn't anger though, that fueled that spark of emotional magic that sent shivers down Harry's spine it was something more complicated, something Harry was quite sure that he didn't understand. But Harry suspected that it came as much from as words as from the statement he had left unsaid. _If that's what revenge does, I don't want it_ _ **because I don't want to be as miserable as you are.**_ Snape was the single most unhappy man that Harry had ever met. He had no friends, he never smiled, he was in a job that he hated while running between two powerful wizards that alternately lying to or bowing before. Harry never wanted Snape's life and the man had seen it.

But the tendril of tense magic did not last more than a second, and then Snape turned abruptly and left, slamming the compartment door behind him and leaving Harry to sit before his knees buckled.

 **A/N: Thanks once again everyone, your reviews have been a great help to me.**

 **My favorite description of Harry actually comes from Dobby when he says that 'I have heard of your greatness but of your goodness Dobby never knew.' I feel that is the perfect summary of Harry as a character and one that I hope to show is important in this story.**

 **For anyone that might think I exaggerated Voldemort's feelings towards Snape- I don't think I did, or at least not by very much. He seems to trust Snape on a level that we don't see displayed with the other Death Eaters. Snape is consistently seated at Voldemort's right hand side. He even allows Snape to plead for Lily's life, a deal he was going to keep in spite Lily being a 'mudblood' and only reneged on the deal after Lily refused to step aside. In HBP we even see that while Bellatrix is (rightly) doubtful of Snape's allegiance, Voldemort is seemingly satisfied with all of the excuses Snape has given him. Personally I think whatever still remains of 'Tom Riddle' so to speak, feels like he can identify with Snape- a half-blood, who is talented and powerful but is estranged from his peers, who displays no emotion and seeks power as means to better himself. The difference is Snape, unlike Riddle, is capable of caring about another human being he just represses his feelings to a dangerous point.**

 **Also, I wanted to clear up one thing based on a few reviews. I apologize if I've made Harry seem to be 'super powered', it's something I was trying to avoid doing to be honest. Though I won't lie, I actually believe that Harry is a truly powerful wizard. Both during his trial 5** **th** **year and later during the OWLs, people seem truly amazed that Harry could form a corporeal patronus at all, something he has done since he was 13 and against what was described as a hundred dementors. He was able to throw off the Imperious Curse from Voldemort at 14 and twice he overpowers Voldemort when it comes to sheer will- once in the graveyard and second in the Department of Mysteries. Rowling even make a special point of saying that Flitwick spent a 'free' period discussing with Harry the merits of how good his Summoning Charm was in the First Task which makes me believe it was better than the average Fourth Year. I believe that Harry is more powerful than his fellow classmates but I really don't enjoy fics where Harry can suddenly perform everything wandlessly and spells are bouncing off him left and right. Too strong a hero and the stakes suddenly don't seem as high so I truly am sorry if I gave off the impression that Harry is all powerful. He most definitely isn't. The fight against Voldemort was his wand reacting as it had done in Deathly Hollows for anyone that didn't catch it, only this time Dumbledore doesn't realize what caused it and thinks it was some sort of fluke of magic. His fight against the Death Eaters was possible literally because he was working on instinct due to the fact that he wasn't in his right mind- Dumbledore wasn't wrong about that.**

 **Also- for the record I like Hermione. I think she's a great addition to the trio and I think we can all agree that Harry would have been dead without her. I also have no idea what Harry was planning to do to actually track down those Horcruxes but without her 'little beaded bag' he wouldn't have made it very far. I know I've been hard on her in this fic but she does have her flaws as well and I felt that her reactions would have been genuine based on what has happened in this story so far. I've tried to balance her with a few lighthearted moments like the party that she planned for Harry but I have the feeling people are responding to her negatively and I hope I haven't given the impression that I think all Hermione is present for is to nag and complain to Harry.**


	23. Parley

**Chapter 23: Parley**

 **POV: Severus Snape**

Severus Snape was not a man that enjoyed being wrong. It was fortunate for him that throughout his life he could honestly say it was not an experience he had been forced to endure often. Growing up he had been forced into the role of having to know the answers and while it had been a role that he suffered through in the beginning, having all the answers was something that he had grown to take a quiet pride in. While his mother had been quite brilliant in her youth, her brilliance had dimmed over the years due to the abuse she suffered under the control of Tobias Snape. His mother had eventually become a shell of what she had been, and a mere shadow of what she could have accomplished. As for his father, in addition to being an abusive alcoholic with a vicious temper, he was also a man that bragged regularly that he had never once read a whole book and never would. The greatest lessons from either of his parents had come from what not to do. While his parents had avoided any kind of intellectual advancement, Severus had devoted his life to finding answers and knowing more than anyone else in the room.

It wasn't long before Severus had grown used to finding the answers to problems in his troubled household: when the bill collectors came calling or the electricity was canceled, it was Severus that knew what to do. And when he had later gone to Hogwarts, not only had he been among the top of his class but even as a Second and Third Year student, he had been looked up to by many of the older students as the one to have the answers. The more he knew, the more craved to discover on his own. His search for answers had given him independence, independence that had led him to discoveries from improvements in his potions to eventually inventing his own spells. The more he had learned, the more he thirsted for more. The joy of knowing, the challenge of figuring out what no one else around him could see. It was his brilliance that had allowed him to survive for years as first a young Death Eater, and then a traitor, and then as a spy and the least popular member of the Order. More often than not, unless he was in a room with Albus Dumbledore, Severus had grown used to being the smartest man in the room and he reveled in it.

Which is perhaps why it was so incredibly difficult for him to reconcile the fact that he was beginning to see that he had been quite wrong in estimating the character of Harry James Potter. He had been so prepared to despise the human incarnation of his greatest love and greatest hate. From the moment that Severus had sworn his vow to protect Lily's son, he had _wanted_ to hate the reason for her death. The boy that she had protected at the cost of her own life. He had looked for reasons to despise the boy from the outset and over the years he had not been disappointed. At first glance the boy was the spitting image of his father, and not only in looks. Potter was confident, he was popular, he was reckless with no regard for rules, and he was utterly convinced of his own righteousness. Even as a First Year Potter had stared at him with bold defiance each time Severus had tried to take the boy down a peg. For a boy who had never known his father, the similarities had been overwhelming and any kind of reservation he might have had in forgetting that Harry Potter had had a much different childhood than his father had been swept aside.

But far worse than all of the similarities that Potter had with the father, for Severus, the truly unforgiveable thing that Potter possessed were not the many traits he shared with his father, but the one trait that he shared with his mother. Day after day, week after week, year after year, Snape had watched Lily's beautiful green eyes stare at him with nothing but anger, contempt, and betrayal. From the moment he had heard of her death, he had always known that he would suffer for it until the end of his days, but nothing had prepared had him for the cruelty of looking into Lily's green, almond-shaped eyes and seeing nothing but hatred, hatred that grew by the day.

But no matter how hard Severus wanted to continue to despise the boy for all that he represented, he been forced to see him in a new light. He had been forced into recognizing that Potter had not stared back at him in bold defiance, but in the only defense that he had learned over the years to a challenge- facing it head on and expecting no help but his own. Potter didn't have careless strut of confidence that came with being adored by one's parents the way Draco Malfoy enjoyed but instead he moved with an assuredness that came from having to grow up quickly lest he not grow up at all. The green eyes that had twinkled with laughter and innocence on Lily's face, had seen more in 16 years than any teenager should.

The fact was that Harry Potter was not a twisted representation of Severus' past but a young man that carved out his own path with a strength that few people would have had. And as Severus came to realize that even when offered the opportunity, the boy did not whine or complain about his past but accepted both the trials and accomplishments that came from it, he felt his respect grow. Even as his opinion had changed, Severus had found it hard to face the truth of his own conclusions. After all, he more than most knew that burying the past with all of its pain was no easy task... one that he refused to admit to others that he struggled with daily. The fact that a boy more than half his age could seemingly do better than himself was a stark realization that he had been unprepared for.

Over the last few weeks he had carefully avoided Potter as much as humanly possible. He ignored him in class, even when it had become obvious after the second (he was surprised he hadn't guessed it during the first) lesson that Potter had finally obtained the old Potion's book he had left with Lily. He had surmised that Potter must have gotten it during Black's will reading, Lupin had reported to the Order that the boy had met with the solicitor in private and had come back with a box of belongings that he had not wanted to discuss. The fact that Lily had left his own potion's book among the few possessions she had ensured her son would inherit had affected him in ways he could not begin to understand. But even as Potter's potion's grade had improved with efforts that did not belong to him, Severus had stoically avoided any confrontation.

Not only did he ignore him in class, Severus made every effort to keep away from him outside of it. He had needed time to reflect on what he had seen. The way the muggles of his villages had rallied behind Potter in ways that Severus had never seen anyone do for another person. The fact that Potter had truly cared for the young vampire girl, even when his own life had been at stake. The way Potter had used the last reserves of his strength to stand against the most feared wizard of all time- and not simply because he had been too far out of his mind to know fear but because he had known that it was something that must be done. Severus had not been prepared to confront those feelings and had gone out of his way in the early weeks of the school year to avoiding having to confirm that he had been wrong for the past five years.

Unfortunately, fate seemed determined to throw them together at every possible opportunity, or perhaps 'fate' was no more than an old man with a sweet tooth and too many names. At any rate, now that they were forced together, Severus' old habits came back. He needed answers.

He wasn't sure why he had asked Potter about the Dursleys. It shouldn't have mattered. Potter was not the first boy to come from a family that had not treated him as they should have. He had been treated worse than some but not worse than others. It was not a new story, even if it was always a sad one, but that did not mean that he was not going to pity a boy that I obviously did not need it. In fact, he had rarely seen a boy in less need of pity than Potter.

So why had he asked? Why had he been curious to know why Potter have been so insistent on protecting the very people that had hurt him his entire life? Because Potter have gone to seemingly extraordinary length to ensure that is aunt and uncle have been taken care of.

But in spite of the boy's warning, he had not been prepared for the answer. The way Potter had looked as he said those words ' _If that's what revenge does, I don't want'_ and both of them had known what he had meant. No Potter was not in need of pity, but it was with a combination of horror and instinctual anger that he saw for the first time that a part of Potter might in fact pity him. Pity him for his choices and the fact that he had held on to his hatred for so many years.

Therefore it was with ill temper that Severus found himself being greeted by the welcoming delegation at The Summit. Potter's eyes had widened at the sight of the snow-capped mountains that they were standing in and it occurred to Severus that the boy had probably never been anywhere on holiday. Never seen anything outside of his relation's home, Hogwarts and that godforsaken death trap that the Weasleys referred to as some sort of rabbit hole or something.

The main Headquarters of the ICW was outside of Versailles in France but there were various smaller meeting places and secret locations spread throughout Europe. The Summit was being held in the Bunker- a location designed specifically for times of crisis by the ICW. It was rumored to be among the most secure places in the Wizarding World. For security reason the bunker was stationed in the Alps in Switzerland near the border of Italy- secret from muggles, and supposedly from wizards for extra safety. As far as Severus knew it had been in operation for the past century and unlike many of their other locations throughout time, had not yet been breached. Though most people took this as a positive, Severus found himself worried about complacency. With 147 countries in the ICW and many others still outside of its control, there had always been a long history of espionage among the groups. Even before the official formation of the International Confederation of Wizards in 1692, countries had been forming alliances and ties- complete with hideaways that their enemies were never supposed to find but often did. For several centuries it had been considered a point of pride to discover one of the many secret ICW locations and show up, many times simply to prove that the international task force was not infallible.

The last time the ICW had met in regards to an actual international threat had been in the last days of the First War. It had only been in that last year that the threat that "Lord Voldemort" had poised for Britain for over a decade had finally concerned the greater Wizarding population of the world. During his rise to power, the Dark Lord had concerned himself with his home country exclusively, but as the terror of his campaign grew the Ministry had reached out to the ICW for reinforcements. They had essentially been told that they were dealing with a domestic terrorist and that Britain was responsible for sorting out its own mess. There had been no desire from the foreign powers to divert money, people or even attention to a problem that did not affect their own countries. The fear of the 'Dark Lord' had never reached the same fever pitch on the Continent as it did in Britain, as more and more people feared to even speak the man's name aloud. However, no such stigma was associated abroad where there was still more fear attached to the name Grindlewald- who had actively avoided the home of Albus Dumbledore when launching his own campaign of destruction- than his successor.

However, although the British Ministry had held up moderately well, it had been dangerously close to utter collapse and with the people of Britain terrified and all but subjugated under his command, the Dark Lord had seized the opportunity to spread his influence onto the Continent, which had been received as a devastating blow to people that had not taken the threat seriously until they were threatened firsthand.

The idea of the Summit was to prevent the mistakes. To take a more proactive- perhaps even pre-emptive strike against the threat. However, despite what many of the delegates might have believed, it was already too late for pre-emptive strikes. Severus had learned that despite his incapacitation, the Dark Lord had not been completely idle for the 13 years he had been disembodied and while he had allowed his support in Britain to remain dormant- trusting in his own infamy to keep the fear alive- he had spent the last decade spreading influence in the right places, right under the very noses of the governments that would be attending the Summit. The Dark Lord was an expert at working in the shadows and just as he had eventually used Quirrell in his attempt to finally come back to power in Britain, which he intended to be his seat of power, he had influenced countless other young impressionable men and women to follow him. Sowing the seeds for the right moment. Speaking to some as he had initially done with Quirrell until the break in at Gringotts had not yielded the Stone as promised and possessing others. Severus knew that the delegates that would be attending the Summit believed this threat to be off in the future at worst, and more than likely nothing more of an abstract idea rather than an actual threat. He also knew that in actuality more than half of those same delegates came from countries that were already heavily infiltrated and merely biding their time until the right moment. The time of reckoning was upon the Wizarding World and Severus was not at all certain that it was something that could be stopped.

Worst still was the fact that far from injecting reason into the argument, the British government was in a state of denial of just how precarious their own situation was and Severus worried that Weasley and his ilk were under the impression that because the Dark Lord was 'Britain's problem' they were going to feel entitled to call the shots. This was problematic not only because of Fudge's policies were ineffective and likely to cause more harm than good but because in recent years the British had lost a lot of international favor and it would be hard to garner the proper respect that they would need to take on a leadership role. They needed to crawl before the ICW on their knees and ask for help but Weasley was more likely to be under the impression that they could walk in and demand that everyone follow them.

"Bonjour," a middle age woman who had the look of someone that had once been attractive in their youth and was under the impression that they had not aged as much as had clearly done in vibrantly fashionable robes greeted them politely with a very slight French accent. "You must be the British delegates, we are so happy that you have arrived safely." Introductions were made, the woman pausing on Potter's scar, looking more annoyed than awed by the boy's presence. "I have your room keys here. You have about an hour to get settled before the briefing meeting. Today there are no policy discussions, it simply a time for us all to get the relevant information. Mr. Greengrass, I believe you have prepared a statement from your Ministry?" This, Severus had been told by Albus to expect, was apparently standard practice. A chance for all of the countries to get on the same page before they started to negotiate or propose their own policies. A rather trite practice considering everyone was fully aware that everyone else was in possession of enough facts to have already have formed a position- one that no nation would be easily swayed away from without good reason. It seemed to Severus to be a waste of time, but then in his opinion most politics were a waste of time.

"Yes Ma'am, our Aurors and the Department of Magical Law Enforcement have worked together with our Wizengamot to prepare all of our information." Severus saw Potter purse his lips ever so slightly, obviously unimpressed with the Ministry's information gathering skills but wisely saying nothing at the moment. The boy needed to learn how to control his expressions, he was an open book!

"Wonderful. Allow me to show me all to your rooms," she answered before turning to Potter, pointedly saying, "we have a comfortable lounge where all of the wives, husbands and children of the delegates that will be meeting in the west chamber. I can show you how to get there myself, it's easy to get lost the first time you're here."

Severus half expected the boy to protest, claiming that that he was only to be kept out of 'official' meetings and the meeting had just been described as no more than a general briefing but Potter only smiled and thanked her graciously. He seemed perfectly polite, but Severus had known the boy for over five years now and despite his slowly changing opinion on him, he could easily recognize the signs of Potter's annoyance. The boy found the witch condescending but to his credit, unlike the previous year Potter had learned the value of holding his tongue until the right moment. He would get nothing from arguing with her at the moment and he seemed to feel that he would be better served by ignoring her until the time was right.

The rooms that they were brought to were comfortably situated. As the Bunker was designed to house representatives from many countries for what could be extended periods of time, each suite came with five bedrooms- each complete with an en-suite bathroom, a spacious common area and small kitchenette, complete with access to a House-elf if necessary. The furniture was comfortable and well-made, the rooms stylish and designed to impress people that were used to a wealthy lifestyle.

Severus, always keen to measure other's reactions, saw quickly that Potter was the most impressed- though Weasley was obviously struggling valiantly to pretend that he was more accustomed to luxury than he really was. They were greeted cheerily by the elf, "welcome, welcome Sirs and Madame! I is Trolly and I is being happy to serve British Sirs and Madame. Is there anything I's can been getting yous?"

There was a casual dismissal by the group with the exception of Potter who answered with careful eye contact, "no thanks Trolly, we appreciate it though. This room is really amazing, can you tell me about the building?"

Potter ignored the looks that he received from the three Ministry delegates, but Severus was unsurprised to see the sweeping devotion that Potter received from the startled elf. It had been much the same at Prince Manor with Eppy. He wasn't sure what strange motivation propelled the boy to befriend the creatures but he was beginning to see that the boy was rather consistent with it. Trolly happily started rambling with Potter while the others went to their respective rooms.

As Severus' role on this trip was primarily to chaperone Potter, the two of them would be sharing a room, a detail that the boy did not seem to be aware of until he entered the room roughly ten minutes later, presumably finally finished with his conversation and realized that they would be staying in same room with twin beds separated only by a small bedside table. He shot an apprehensive look at the bed and Severus felt unexpectedly offended at the naked fear that flashed subtly across Potter's expression. He knew the boy did not like or trust him but even he would not have thought that the boy thought so little of him as to be genuinely nervous at having him in the same room as he slept. The idle thought flashed through his mind that things at the Dursleys were worse than anyone had thought until now, but he dismissed it. From what he had gathered of Minerva and Poppy's little ambush, Severus did not think that Potter's amateur-level evasion skills would have survived the interrogation if something so sinister lurked behind the truth.

They unpacked quickly and the assistant, Charlotte she had said, arrived shortly after to inform that the meeting was set to begin while pointedly taking Potter to the social equivalent of the 'kids table'. Potter shot him a rueful look and Severus was surprised to admit that he found the action surprisingly funny.

HPHPHPHP

The meeting was predictably unenlightening though Severus learned more from the attendance in the room than what was actually being said. He had been right in assuming that most countries were not yet taking the return of the Dark Lord as a serious threat to their own safety. There were currently only 12 countries with a total of 38 delegates present in the room, 11 of which were trying to project a feeling of false confidence that the Dark Lord would not actually target their countries and that they would require several concessions from the rest in order to get their cooperation. Severus believed them to be false because any country that was truly naïve enough to believe that they could remain unaffected indefinitely was not present to begin with. The delegates that had shown up were present because these were the countries where the recruited Death Eaters had already started causing problems. There wasn't a _risk_ of an attack, it was already happening but no one wanted to admit that their country was in a vulnerable position and instead to be seen as being able to operate from the strength of being seen as a protector rather than victim.

The briefing and subsequent smaller talks between delegates lasted throughout the afternoon, there was no formal dinner the first night but there was a general dining area that the delegates and their families were invited to eat in and after several exhausting hours of pretending to enjoy banal small talk, Severus was anxious to eat quickly and leave. His lip curled as he considered once again the desperation of the Order's resources if _he_ was considered the person in the best position for this particular assignment. Severus was a master Occlumens, he had strong, reliable contacts with several known Death Eaters- Lucius Malfoy, Igor Karkaroff, Walden Macnair, and the Carrow siblings were all considered 'friends' of his- and so when it came to gathering information from them he was in the perfect position. But in spite of his many commendable skills in spying, gaining trust and garnering information at parties was not one of them.

Severus had always been awkward in a crowd. Silent, brooding and unable to keep his condescension from showing on his face, he was not an approachable target at a dinner party. He did not invite confidences in strangers and he was quite sure that men and women found him off-putting. But here he was- a spy not only for the Order but ostensibly for the Dark Lord as well since there was no means of hiding this latest appointment from him. He had made a few awkward attempts at conversation with a few delegates from Norway only to have them quickly make their excuses and leave. He aborted his own attempt at getting information from the beautiful French delegate who made him inherently uncomfortable. He should have known to stay away from that vibrant red-hair. He settled for sitting quietly alone, at least listening to the buzz around him if not actually contributing.

Potter, on the other hand, was chatting quite comfortably with some of the teens that had accompanied their parents. Both Durmstrang and Beauxbatons had courses in politics that allowed for independent study in most other subjects if the students were the children of diplomates. It was considered good experience for the students to attend government meetings or foreign assembles so that they were better equipped to run the government themselves when the time came. Hogwarts had no such class or leniency in allowing students to come and go at will, except in extenuating circumstances in which the student was needed to attend personally.

There were about seven or eight teens and a half a dozen children that were below school age present and Potter was in the center of the group- asking questions and answering them in turn. He appeared confident and charismatic- he looked, Severus realized with a strange pang, very much like his father in that moment, except without any of the arrogance that the elder Potter would have exhibited in the same position. Snape found himself wondering if Potter enjoyed it as much as his father would have. James Potter had always loved a crowd. He not only reveled in being the center of attention, he was one of those rare people who could be dropped into just about any group of people and walk away with friends. He had been a man that had always been inherently comfortable in his own skin but Severus had begun to realize the lengths that the son had gone to over the years to try and avoid his own fame. It had not been until he had seen Potter look and act like Jimmy Evans that he had seen a glimmer of the outgoing person he could have been in another life. One he seemed to working hard to imitate at the moment.

Severus sighed, relieved as the dinner came to an end and all of the delegates were not only able but actually expected to return to their respective quarters to prepare for the next day. As Severus returned to the common room he inwardly groaned as he realized that there was still another point on the unofficial agenda- comparing notes with his colleagues as it were.

Standard Greengrass took control early in, setting the tone that he expected himself to be the main voice during their trip. "I think we should be prudent tomorrow," he started without preamble. "It's clear that many of the delegates present do not believe... You-Know-Who to be a great threat and pushing too hard, too early could be a mistake." Severus was unsurprised. The Greengrasses made neutrality an art form. They had carefully avoided any side during the First War and had managed to come out stronger than they had gone in, therefore it came as no surprise that Standard would voice caution now. The man was attempting to play both sides of the fence but unlike his brother Martell or his father, Standard had never quite mastered subtlety. Standard had already made a statement by agreeing to represent the Ministry's delegation to denounce the Dark Lord on the International stage- an appointment that had frankly shocked Severus when he had first heard- and proposing caution now was a dangerous game he was playing with a man that never offered the benefit of the doubt when it came to possible treachery. Severus should know.

"If we don't press, no one will," Alana Pickleton argued. "Standard, we can't afford to beat around the bush with this! We wasted precious time last year and it's no secret that things are more unstable than we would like anyone else to know. Britain will be the first to fall if we do not get help from the delegates in there and the only way to get that help is to impress upon them the fact that we may be the first but we won't be the last."

"So you suggest crawling to them on our hands and knees? Pleading for help from countries that are only here to extort their power over us to the fullest?"

"I never said that we have to tell them how dangerous the situation is at the moment! I said that we need to make them see that a pre-emptive strike on their part is the best course of action. We need them to _want_ to help us."

"And how do you propose we do that?" Percy Weasley finally asked, though whether out of genuine curiosity or to make sure that the older delegates simply did not forget that he was in the room it was hard to say.

The other two paused, leveling their younger colleague with an inquiring glare- both waiting for Weasley to declare himself on a proper side before answering his question, but in a rare show of actual cunning, the boy did not offer his opinion yet. Though perhaps cunning was too generous- while a true Slytherin might have been waiting to see which side benefited him more, Weasley seemed to be merely unsure who he was supposed to be ingratiating himself to currently.

Percy Weasley had always been a pushy little brown-noser as a student and had become a weak little sycophant as an adult. With his ambition, Severus had often wondered how the boy would have fared in Slytherin House, since it had become clear that even as a young boy the middle Weasley son had been unhappy with his family's meager resources and poor social standing. Had the boy been in his House, Percy might have learned the skills to succeed properly but as it stood, Severus had the feeling that Weasley had the ability to reach only superficial success. He would forever be the man behind the man, never the one calling the shots as he believed he would one day become if he placed himself in the right positions now.

He was saved from further scrutiny by the door opening and Potter finally deciding to grace them with his presence. "Evening," he greeted evenly, a slight flush to his cheeks the only indication that his late arrival in the room made him uncomfortable. "How did the briefing go? Do you have a clear idea who might want to align with us?"

"That is none of your concern Potter," Weasley answered curtly.

"Are you seriously planning on not telling me anything? Knowing who our allies are isn't classified information?" he argued calmly, his voice level.

"We have yet to determine who our allies are!" Alana muttered, clearly still irritated with the discussion and taking it out on the newcomer.

"Exactly," Weasley answered piously, clearly grateful that he was no longer the youngest, most inexperienced person in the room. "And since we need to get on the same page before we start negotiations tomorrow, there really isn't anything you can contribute at the moment. If you insist on listening to what we have to say I suppose no real harm can be done but I suggest you take a seat while we finish our discussion."

Severus watched with mild interest as Potter's fists clenched even as he struggled to keep his expression neutral. The boy was clearly trying to keep his temper in the hopes that he would appear more mature than his sixteen years but there was also no hiding the fact that he truly despised the older boy. Severus found the dynamic fascinating. He knew, of course, from his interaction with the Order that the middle child of Arthur and Molly Weasley had fallen out with his family and had yet to reconcile with them. Apparently he was still refusing to apologize for his appalling behavior from the previous year. Truth be told, Severus had little tolerance for anyone in the family. Molly was a dominating, shrill woman that had no boundaries, Arthur an over excited child who led with passion over practicality. Their eldest son Bill had shown promise as a student and had apparently led a somewhat successful career as a cursebreaker and aside from horrendous fashion sense seemed to be most rational person in the family. But it seemed as though the caliber of Weasley dropped with each successive child in his estimation. The twin terrors were talented in their way but they lacked direction and despite the continued rumors of the success of their shop and their supposed mysterious backer, he didn't feel that they would ultimately make successful businessmen. As Potter's best friend, Severus had had little use for Ronald over the years and Ginerva was a girl with talent but an overestimation of her own skill. He wasn't sure if it came from being the baby girl in a family of 6 older brothers but the youngest Weasley seemed to possess a desperate need to prove herself and failed to recognize that sooner or later that the simple logic that if her brothers could do it, she could as well, wouldn't work forever. However, to see a Weasley- even the proverbial black sheep as it were- so at odds with Harry Potter was fascinating to watch.

"And you're all certain that I don't have anything to contribute?" he asked evenly, glancing at Greengrass and Pickleton, who had made no move to counter this demand, while studiously avoiding Severus' gaze.

"The situation is delicate," Standard said quietly. "There is a lot that you don't understand and, forgive me Mr. Potter if this sounds rude, but from everything we have heard about you, it would seem that your particular brand of rash heroism is more suited for field work than for diplomatic ties. I'm sure that in time you will make an impressive Auror, but this is a very different skill set."

Potter's brow rose slightly but he didn't react with the anger that Severus had been anticipating considering he had already appeared to be on the edge. Instead he asked calmly, "and, if I might ask... what exactly have you heard about me over the years?"

Pickleton and Greengrass exchanged quizzical glances, each one clearly not wanting to comment first since the exploits of Harry Potter around the Ministry must have been numerous and, many times, proven later to be entirely fictitious. "We heard that you once ran down Sirius Black thinking he was the man that betrayed your parents only for you to discover that he was innocent," Greengrass settled for saying. Black's innocence, along with a statement made by Potter on the day of the will reading about ensuring that proper justice was carried out had been all over the paper for weeks which meant that it was more than likely more accurate than some of the other rumors they had undoubtedly heard.

Potter smirked slightly at this, "Almost right. I wasn't actually trying to find Sirius at all, but he was looking for Peter Pettigrew and found my friend Ron along with him. But I did find out the whole story though," he added pointedly. "Even if the Minister didn't believe me." He paused and waited, choosing his words carefully.

"To be honest with you, I don't go looking for trouble. Somehow it seems to find me... but I am curious. And when I see something that doesn't make sense or seems to be out of place, I have to find out more. I found out that Dumbledore had the Philosopher's Stone my First Year and that Voldemort was going to try and steal it so that he could come back. I-" Potter glanced rather guiltily in Snape's direction, "I didn't know all the details but I was the only one that figured out when Quirrell would go after it," and then his tone changed to one slightly accusing, "Even though all of the teachers knew that Dumbledore was leaving Hogwarts and that would be the time to strike.

"I found the Chamber of Secrets my Second Year because no one else even thought to question the person that had died the first time around. In fifty years no one had even questioned Moaning Myrtle."

"And your point Mr. Potter?" Severus asked, though he was beginning to see where this little conversation was heading.

"I mean that I don't run quite as blindly into situations as some people think I do. It took me weeks to figure out what the connection was between Nicholas Flamel and what Dumbledore was hiding in the castle was- but I found it. You don't even want to know what I had to go through to try and prove that I wasn't the Heir of Slytherin when everyone thought that I was. So you all don't need to tell me anything, but keep in mind that I won't tell you any of the information that I find out either. And before you think that's an empty threat because I don't know anything, I would keep in mind who is getting the better end of the deal here."

Severus was battling between feeling impressed and wanting to curse the little brat for his sheer arrogance.

"And last year you dragged my brother and sister after you to the Ministry, to break in illegally so you all could fight Death Eaters!" Weasley shouted out. "What was your brilliant plan then?"

Potter's face was pale at the memory of that confrontation but he did not back down from his point. "I didn't have a brilliant plan. I went to try and save someone that wouldn't have been in danger if I had known all of the right information. I don't have all the answers, but I'm better at finding them than you might think I am, and certainly better than someone that didn't even think Voldemort was back at all."

Severus could see the anger on Weasley's face and the skeptical looks of the other two delegates but the fact remained that Potter had a point. He sighed but in the end there seemed no point in arguing further. "Alright... quid quo pro it is Potter. You show us yours, we'll show you ours. It's the best solution for us all," he added turning to the delegates. There was nothing to be lost from keeping information from Potter, expect perhaps their own pride, and perhaps everything to be gained- because as painful as it was to admit, Potter was right in saying that he had found out more about the plots inside Hogwarts over the past five years than the rest of them had managed.

Potter grinned, "Well first of all you have to watch out for Norway's alliance with the Belgium's- its new and they want to wait to spring it on you but it sounds to me like it's still on shaky ground so you might be able to exploit..."

The stories came quickly and with surprising detail. Potter had been busy indeed. When asked how he gotten so much information about classified information he had merely smiled and told them that if you asked the people that weren't supposed to have the information, they loved to share it just to prove that they had it. Potter had spent the day alternately asking questions from the spouses of the delates about how the system worked and what he should expect and practically daring the teens to give up information that they had found out from their parents without their knowledge. While at times the information was suspect given how it had been obtained, there was a certain Slytheriness to how he done it that had surprised Severus.

They had discovered why Potter had cornered their House-elf for several minutes.

"They're having an affair?" Alana asked aghast.

Potter smirked, "well unless you can think of another reason why Germany's House-elf is doing the laundry for Giovanni," he answered in reference to the Italian delegate in question. "They never ordered any of the elves to stay quiet about it so when I asked if any of them are forced to work for people outside their assigned delegation he told me."

"You certainly have interesting sources Mr. Potter," Greengrass said slowly, he seemed unsure if he should feel impressed or disgusted by the boy's tactics.

One thing was for sure, Potter's day had more interesting than his own.

HPHPHP

Potter finished his nightly ritual in the bathroom, emerging in Gryffindor pajamas and once again eyeing the bed with clear apprehension. His muscles were tense and his face pinched. Two times, Severus opened his mouth to berate the boy for his foolishness but he found himself to be at an uncharacteristic loss of words. If Potter had been defiant or rude, if he had openly accused Severus of such a brutal crime and yet with completely unsubstantiated reason, he would have berated and humiliated him. He would defended himself with vigor but faced with the uncommon sight of a timid Harry Potter that was clearly unable to conceal the fear, Severus felt strangely vulnerable. Guilty almost.

Potter made his way to the bed closest to the far wall, glancing subtly at Severus, he pulled back the bed covers before sliding in and quietly turning his back on the other occupant in the room and seemingly went to sleep, though Severus could not help but notice that it took quite a while for his breathing to even out.

It wasn't for another 2 hours that Severus was finally ready to put aside the journal that he had been reading and go to sleep himself. However, it seemed as though only moments had passed after he had closed his eyes when he was awakened by frightened, desperate sounds. The sounds of obvious distressed acted as an alarm and he jumped quickly from the bed, wand in hand with the expectation of finding some new catastrophe. He had always been a light sleeper- easier to avoid a drunk Tobias if he could be up and out of his bed at the sound of the first knocked-over chair or disgruntled curse as the man stumbled in from the pub in the middle of the night and the habits of his youth had proved invaluable over the years as a spy.

But there was no clear danger at the moment. Potter was whimpering in his sleep, his face flushed and sweaty, he was tangled in the blankets and sheets and even with his eyes closed he looked strangely terrified. Visions. The boy was still suffering from the bizarre connection that he shared with the Dark Lord that Severus knew should have been impossible to achieve. Leglimency needed eye contact everyone knew that, but somehow hundreds of miles apart the two men were connected.

Severus approached the boy cautiously, eager to break the connection but weary of doing anything too abruptly lest it prove to be damaging. Despite the desperate movements and clear horror that the boy was experiencing, he was strangely quiet. Severus knew that had the boy been in the regular boy's dormitories the light silencing effect of the curtains would have drowned out any noise from the boy's roommates. The charms were designed to offer a hint of needed privacy to teenage boys that were trapped in a room with multiple other students but were not strong enough to block out anything above a normal speaking voice.

Severus shook the boys' shoulders and was rewarded by a lightning fast swing of the arm and Potter sitting bolt upright, panting as though he had run a marathon. His green eyes were wide, pupils dilated with fear and his breath was still quick and shallow.

"Sorry. Sorry..." he swallowed and forced his breath to slow before he spoke again. "Professor... I- I didn't mean to wake you," he spoke with embarrassed hesitancy.

"Obviously," Severus answered drily. "What did you see Potter?"

The boy stubbornly shook his head, but when his spoke his voice was still shaking. "It's not important. I'm sorry to wake you up, sir."

"Potter if you're still having visions of the Dark Lord it is very much my business. I have been more than indulgent in granting you information that I am not at all convinced that you should be receiving but you are the one that first pointed out that this," Severus gestured with his hands between the two of them, "partnership or whatever you want to think of it as, is a two way street. _What did you see_?"

Potter had regained his composure at this point and the flush of his cheeks had settled to only a slight rosy color. His breathing had steadied and the fear in his eyes had been replaced by confusion that cleared after a moment into first comprehension and then, embarrassment.

"That wasn't a vision sir. That was... it was just a nightmare. I told you it was nothing."

Severus arched his brow. That had been among one of the more violent night terrors that he had ever witnessed though, he admitted to himself, he had hardly been in a position over the years to see many bed partners.

The color was rising again in the boy's face, this time from shame. "I...I was dreaming about this summer. About how Greg...Greg Tovins the muggle? Er... how he died," Potter admitted roughly.

Severus nodded, suddenly feeling infinitely more uncomfortable than if the boy had simply been suffering from a perfectly unique connection with a mass murderer that no one could understand or stop. There was no information that he could gain, no relevance to their mission and he would have been justified in returning to his bed. He wanted very much to avoid any kind of heart to heart with Potter- he felt that they had already done too much of that on this trip. It was clear from the way the boy had turned slightly and bowed his head that he expected nothing from him after confirming that there had been nothing magical about the occurrence.

And yet at the same time an alien feeling of... something had come over him. Potter suddenly looked younger than he normally did, perhaps it was the lack of glasses or simply the darkness of the room, the lateness of the hour but instead of simply returning to slumber...

"Is... this a nightmare that you have often?" he asked, softly, taking a seat on his own bed, facing Potter.

The boy looked rather startled by the question and his expression turned guarded, obviously suspicious as to Severus' motives in asking about his nightmares. He considered for a moment but when he spoke he seemed to have settled on the truth. Something- Severus was coming to understand- the boy seemed to do far more often than not.

"No. A mean I have a couple of times, especially when I was still in hospital this summer after it had just happened and I hadn't even heard what had happened to him yet," he explained. Severus suddenly remembered seeing Potter right before the Welcoming Feast when the Stavely woman had first tried to wrestle control of the boy and Potter had expressed concerns about what had happened to the muggle teenager after his death. It occurred to him for the first time that he should have spoken to Potter while he was still in St. Mungo's. Checked to see if he was not only physically alright but that he had been coping with not only his illness but the events of the attack. He had taken the time to check on Draco. The boy had been in a nearly hysterical state after the confrontation with the Dark Lord and Severus had tried to provide a sense of stability if not quite comfort for him.

When the young Slytherin had realized that he was being taken to St. Mungo's for his severe reaction, it had almost made things worse because Draco had a great fear of ending up like his mother, who was still being cared for in a private facility. Severus had taken the time to see to Draco and had stayed with him long enough for him calm down and accept the help that he had needed- reassuring him that his stay was temporary. Even now, nearly two months after the attack, he still spoke with the boy occasionally to see how he was doing. The two of them would have tea in Severus' office- a social custom that he not engaged in for several years with anyone but was beginning to find strangely pleasant, and Severus would ask after Narcissa (who according to her Healers was improving) or else make sure that Lucius was adjusting to life back at the Manor.

Draco had suddenly been thrust into a position where he was expected to care for his parents as much as they were trying to care for him and the boy was struggling with the new balance of power in the family. Severus had made a point to make sure that Draco at least had the support of one stable adult, but it had not even occurred to him to extend the same courtesy to Potter. And it wasn't- Severus came to realize in the dark hotel room- even because of his dislike for the boy or for James Potter, it had been because it had never once occurred to him that Potter might not be alright.

Once the Healers had made it clear that the boy would not suffer from permanent effects from the poison in his system, and that he was not in any way _clinically_ insane, Severus had assumed that the boy would pull himself together in the fashion that he always had. Potter had always seemed to bounce back from his little adventures without even the slightest dent to his ego but seeing the shaking hands and unsteady breath, he could see that Potter put up a better front than he had ever given him credit for.

Nevertheless, Severus was not an inherently comforting person. Even with Draco he was better at offering practical advice or help with a specific task than emotional support. He struggled for a moment with what he should say. "This is the first time that the two of us have spent an extended period of time together since this summer. I would imagine that your mind associated it with the events of the attack and that is why the nightmare occurred."

It was not the most comforting words but Severus had always preferred logical answers and solutions to problems instead of empty platitudes and reassurances and he was only slightly surprised to see Potter nodding his understanding, slight relief coming across his expression. "Yeah that makes sense," he said quietly.

"Do you... often suffer nightmares from memories?" Severus asked, seeing Potter's clear apprehension about sharing a room with him in a new light. He had not been afraid of what Severus might do to him, but rather he had been afraid of what he himself might reveal to a man that he did not trust and worried over the reaction he would receive.

Potter licked his lips nervously but once again did not back away from the truth. As Head of Slytherin, he had some experience in talking to teens about issues that they would rather not discuss. Bad grades, trouble at home, relationship problems, depression, self-harm, bullying- teenagers had a whole host problems and very poor avoidance techniques. When he sat them down to discuss whatever problem they were having the reactions that he received were varied but fell into categories of behavior. Some lied well, many lied poorly, others overshared everything simply for the attention it gave them. Some insisted they were fine when it was clear that they needed- and deep down wanted- help, others complained more than the situation warranted simply because someone was listening. But in almost every situation, Severus received the edited version of the story. The story the person felt most comfortable, or at times the most capable, of telling.

Potter, however, had a stoic determination for the truth even it was clear that he didn't want to say it. There was something... respectable about that Gryffindor bravery to face his fears head on rather than avoid them and for the first time in a very long while Severus found himself admiring the traits of their rival House.

"Not as much anymore actually. I had a lot of them last year but... I worked them out," he answered quietly.

Severus nodded, thinking about the events of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. No one had spoken to the boy after those events and he had then been sent to stay with his muggle relations, something that probably was not conducive to healing from such trauma. "It had be difficult to work out such things on your own. You could have spoken to Professor McGonagall if you felt troubled. Or Madame Pomfrey," Severus answered, this was falling into more familiar territory. As a Head of House they had all received at least some training on what to do with a child that needed support and referrals to talk to the school nurse were not uncommon, though Severus was quite sure that they were not used as extensively as most muggle institutions did for their students.

Potter frowned but didn't argue. "I just needed some time. I needed..." he shook his head, his thoughts obviously on something that he was not willing to share. "They're better now. I feel... I feel like I know what I'm doing and how I can help things, and that makes it all easier. Last year... its wasn't just about what had already happened that was hard to deal with, it was... it was feeling like I couldn't control anything that was _going_ to happen," he admitted, his voice sounding as though he had just reached that conclusion in that moment.

"You said that they've gotten better, but you looked rather nervous about sharing a room without the benefit of bed curtains that would help block any sound," Severus observed keenly. "Even if you have them less than you used to... you still have them quite regularly, don't you?"

Potter gave him a shrewd look, unhappy with the observation. "I felt like that it was more likely to happen when someone was more likely to notice. Murphy's law and all that," he muttered. Snape smirked at the muggle reference.

"I first learned Occulumency to stop nightmares," Severus answered, surprised at his own candidness. He had not been so open with another person for a long time. He had not been in a position to confide in another person for a long time. Even when he spoke to his Slytherins he kept the conversation about their problems, offering them no personal reflections about himself. It had always worked in the past, his students had learned quickly in their First Year that he was not about to form a close bond with them. Slytherin House was designed to help one survive and become the best and Snape was their leader, not their father. But Potter was different, he would not take advice unless he could see why it was given and he was not looking for a leader or even a mentor, the boy was too independent for that. Without placing himself as an equal, a confidant, Potter would have no reason to confide in him. But the strangest part was that for the first time, Severus wanted to unburden things to someone else. Wanted to continue the conversation because he found the fact that the boy had seemingly pulled himself out of these nightmares himself fairly remarkable. "Clearing your mind before sleeping is a good way to avoid them."

Harry gave him a rueful smile, "well then it was no wonder I had so many last year."

"Indeed," Severus answered drily. "you truly don't know how to clear your mind?" he asked sincerely.

Potter looked at him surprise and he realized after a moment that it was the tone more than the question that had taken the boy aback. "No. I never understood how you just...stop thinking. I couldn't do it and when I couldn't do it... I didn't want to practice because it just felt like more time I spent failing at it. I know that's stupid, you don't have to say," he added edgily.

"No one likes doing things they don't consider themselves good at, but that is the point of practice," Severus answered mildly.

Potter nodded his understanding but didn't comment. "Can you get back to sleep?" Severus asked, knowing that some people could not sleep again after such an experience.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," he answered quietly. "I'm used to it," he admitted ruefully. "Er... thank you sir. For waking me up I mean. And for talking to me," he added uncomfortably.

Severus nodded, feeling that perhaps he had actually benefitted more from the talk than Potter. After all, the boy was more than used to nightmares and would have survived on his own... but Severus had not had the opportunity to comfort another person in a very long time and found that he had not found the experience as unbearable as he might have.

HPHPHPHP

Potter was up early the next day, quietly putting his things together with the motions of one that knew quite well how not to draw unwanted attention when needed. Severus watched the boy quietly for a moment, taking the moment to watch him without the boy's knowledge. There was no trace of the previous night's distress on his face at the moment and his movements were efficient and sure. He knew that Potter was poised to start training with the Aurors upon his return and he wondered what they would make of his stealth ability, he was already quieter than Nymphadora Tonks.

As he rose, Potter saw that he was awake and greeted him with a neutral, 'morning' before making his exit. Today was the first full day of meetings and Potter would not be seen again until that night but Severus now knew that he had plans of his own. He knew that Weasley and perhaps even Pickleton found Potter's plan to be childish and perhaps rather desperate to be involved but he knew that Standard Greengrass would be cautious of the boy. Like Severus, Greengrass knew that men were not influenced by politics or even money alone but by whatever was deemed most important to them. If Potter could sway their wives and children or if he could find out from them what would sway them, they would be ripe for the taking.

For the first time since Potter had stepped into Hogwarts and spent those several tense moments under the Sorting Hat, Severus wondered what Potter would been like in Slytherin house. The boy had a cunning that was not only sharp but people never saw coming. More than that, Potter understood the people around him. Understood the good and bad of the world without the naivetés of a child and yet remarkably without the jaded bitterness of most adults. The boy could have been great... and with a pang Severus realized that perhaps by avoiding his House and forging his own path... one that was capable of pulling Godric's sword after it had been lost for decades from the Sorting Hat but was also clever enough to get the information that he needed alongside the determination to see his tasks through to the end... the boy might actually become the greatest of them all.

 **A/N: My apologies for the slow update. I hit my first real patch of writer's block right alongside going on vacation. Good news (for me anyway)... I finally got to see Harry Potter World in Orlando and it was every bit as amazing as I had hoped it would be.**

 **The silencing charms on the bed curtains I added because we know how certain items are charmed in the Wizarding World for convenience, I felt it made sense even if they were never mentioned. I figure 5 teenage boys in a room... As I wrote in an earlier note, I know 'silencing wards' are popular in fanfiction but I never saw evidence of them in the books- otherwise wouldn't the Order have used them in book 5 when the kids were spying at the door?**


	24. Warring Weasleys

**Chapter 24: Warring Weasleys**

Harry sank into a comfortable armchair in the Headmaster's office glad that his trip was finally over. It had been an exhausting...and at times down right confusing...past few days.

"Glad to you have you back at Hogwarts Harry, from what I have heard you conducted yourself with remarkable maturity, and might I had a certain shrewdness, that you should be proud of. Not many people your age would have been able to keep pace with seasoned professional politicians in such a manner," Dumbledore complimented him.

Harry felt color rise in his cheeks at the praise, "er...thank you sir, I'm glad that you approve. It... it wasn't easy."

"I can't imagine that it was. I have been attending such meetings for the past 50 years and still find them a somewhat baffling combination of tedious, exhausting and at times exhilarating."

"Exhilarating?" Harry questioned. Endless meetings and continuous talking to people that he was either trying to convince to do something or else having others try to convince him to do something for them was not his idea of 'exhilarating'.

Dumbledore smiled, "I confessed to you Harry that I do not quite possess your good heart, I now further confess that the verbal sparring, the ability to use my wits against intelligent insightful people and spread what I truly believe will help the magical world to those that have the most influence in helping it can be very exhilarating."

Harry gave a tired smile, not quite sure if he could fully agree, but then if he had Dumbledore's wisdom and way with words he might find the forced socializing and passing of bills more entertaining than intimidating. He had been nervous the whole time, unsure he was saying something wrong or else waiting for everyone to realize that he truly was as clueless about everything as they might have first thought after all. He had tried to use the fact that he was the newcomer to his advantage, asking questions that he had already known the answers to just to see who would tell him the truth. A man from Lichtenstein had told him three different lies about protocol that he had thankfully learned from Hermione and he had quickly passed along the information to the other delegates that if the man was lying to him than his wife, who was the actual delegate, was probably not to be trusted.

"And how did you enjoy your time with Professor Snape?" Dumbledore asked leadingly, no doubt referring to the deal that he had offered to strike with Harry. If Harry gave the man a chance with an open mind and if he was still suspicious, Dumbledore would reconsider the man's position as most trusted spy for the Order.

"I don't know," Harry admitted quietly, answering the real question.

Dumbledore merely raised his brow, waiting for Harry to continue. The truth was Harry had thought about it throughout the entire way home but he was still unsure how he truly felt. In all honesty, after so many years of distrust, anger, and suspicion between them it was nearly impossible to look at the man with an entirely clean slate. When Harry spoke to the greasy-haired man, he did not see a man that was potentially risking his life to bring back vital information to the Order, nor was he able to set aside his snide comments and see them as a quirk of personality that was annoying but harmless. Harry had seen the harm that words did. He had seen the fear that Snape inspired in his students and had experienced firsthand the humiliation that he offered anyone he considered beneath him. Dumbledore might be able to excuse these things in favor of a larger, better plan but Harry found it harder to reconcile the fact that a person might be cruel without being evil. And so in spite of his best efforts- and he had made them- when Harry looked at Snape he still saw the man that despised his father and godfather, who had insulted his mother and had worked to make Harry miserable from the moment he had met him.

To further complicate things, however, was the fact that despite his own personal reservations about the man, Harry could not deny that he had managed to see a side to the Potion's Master that he had never glimpsed before.

"Sna- Professor Snape was nicer to me than usual. He listened to what I had to say, he even..." Harry flushed at the memory of waking up from the nightmare of Greg's death. The viciousness of it, the blood. With Cedric there had been a vacantness in his eyes and nothing more. No marks. No violence. Just the jarring quickness that a boy with such potential had been alive and healthy one moment and then was gone the next. Harry had suffered nightmares for months over his death but after seeing the way Greg had died, he felt that perhaps Cedric had been lucky to die so quickly. Painlessly.

Greg's soul had been ripped from him, his neck severed out of mercy and yet it had still been so ugly. He wondered if the body could still feel pain even if the soul was gone. It was a question he never wanted to be able to answer. Harry shook himself back to the present.

"I think we managed to get along. But... I don't know. The truth is, if I didn't think that he was a good spy I wouldn't be nearly as worried. I think he's a great spy... I just think it's not possible to know where his loyalties lie," Harry shrugged, speaking honestly. And it was true. Both Voldemort and Dumbledore were banking on the fact that each one knew Snape better than the other. Both were confident enough in their own abilities to be certain that they were right when their enemy was wrong. Harry had no such confidence in himself- if Snape could lie to either Dumbledore or Voldemort (or both), than Harry was certain that Snape could fool him as well.

Dumbledore considered him carefully, weighing his words before he smiled slightly. "I have to commend you Harry. I believe it has been a very long time since someone has offered me such sound counterarguments to something I've told them without showing any evidence. I have told you that I have my reasons for trusting Professor Snape, reasons that I am not at liberty to discuss with you as I have given my word that I would not. I am glad that you gave this trip honest consideration...now I wish you to take a little more time and see if your opinion doesn't change with time."

Harry nodded slowly, knowing that the professor was not going to go back on his word and break his confidences and feeling satisfied that his concerns were not being immediately being swept aside as they had been in the past."

"Speaking of professor Snape, I heard that you had an interesting proposition for him."

Harry flushed slightly, it had been the last day of the conference and tensions had been running high and help had come from the least expected quarter.

In spite of stress and worry the Summit had caused him, Harry- who quite frankly had expected to be rather bored- had found that talking to the delegates themselves had been in a whole other experience. As he had expected many of them of had quickly dismissed much of what he had to say because of his age. They assumed that he would be parroting whatever his Minister had coached him to say but as the discussions had gone on and Harry had supported a few ideas that the British government had never expressed support in, the sentiment seemed to change. He had started speaking to Magnus Jespen from Denmark, and learned that the Scandinavian countries, were much more willing to work with and protect werewolves than Britain. They were of the belief that people that were inflicted with lycanthropy were suffering from an unfortunate disease and nothing more and deserved free access to the wolfsbane potion. The differing attitudes had been a rather sore spot and when rumors had swirled that an entire Vampire Clan had sworn their alliance to him, most had assumed that he had taken a stand against werewolves out of loyalty, They had been surprised when Harry had been delighted with their ideas and enthusiastically asked how they had gone about setting up the country.

The problem, of course, was funding. The Wolfbane Potion was not only expensive to make but incredibly complicated. Very few potion makers were capable of achieving an effective brew and as such felt justified in charging handsomely for their skills. Denmark had worked into their budget but Britain's potioneers wanted more money and the Ministry was unable to allocate any resources at all.

Just as Harry was nodding his reluctant agreement that it would quite some time before Britain made any provisions for their werewolves in their budget, Snape of all people had promised to speak to some of the potion master at their government facility and see how they had cut costs. Even go so far as to say he train a team of people on how to brew the potion each month if the Ministry was willing to work with him. The other delegates on their team had not looked particularly pleased to be negotiating anything to do with werewolf rights during a foreign assembly but they hadn't shot the proposal down officially since it would have seemed to dismissive of the other countries' views.

Harry discussed a few other fine points of the week with the Headmaster before the late hour seemed to catch up with both of them and Harry prepared to leave. However, before he was able to make smooth exit, Dumbledore's expression turned serious.

"Harry as I have said, I am quite impressed with the maturity and poise that you have displayed these last months- years really- but I would like to stress that the information that you learn both from your conferences in the Ministry- which I have no doubt will only become more frequent with time- and most especially the information that I share with you during our lessons remain confidential," Dumbledore said gently.

Harry blinked, "of course professor," surprised that the man would feel the need to say such a thing before a guilt thought occurred to him. He winced as he realized that he had already violated this stipulation. "Er... well actually I should have asked before now really, but quite honestly it seemed so natural to tell them that it never occurred to me to not to be completely honest with them, but when you say don't tell anyone, you don't mean Ron and Hermione, do you?"

Dumbledore smiled at Harry, his eyes twinkling merrily, "no Harry, I believe that Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger have more than proven themselves worthy of your trust and there is nothing more important than establishing such trust with others. You have my permission to share anything you like with them. However...Harry, you are a perspective and intelligent young man and have always proven to show appropriate discretion about the things that matter and so I hope you do not take offense when I say that I hope that you do not begrudge the voice of experience, and that you are wary of expanding information beyond your two trusted compatriots."

Harry looked at the Headmaster with confusion. He was friendly with a lot of people- his Quidditch team, his dormmates, others in his year- but no one compared with the friendship that he had with Ron and Hermione and he could not imagine anyone else taking that spot.

Dumbledore smiled gently, "as I said, you are a young man, as difficult as this might be to imagine, I too was young once. I know what it is to experience young love... or other such related feelings," Dumbledore added leadingly and Harry flushed with embarrassment. "When you find a person that you care about, it can be blinding. I would never presume to question, or dare I say control, your personal life but I would ask that you remember the important role that you play. You are being asked far more than any 16 year old student should be asked Harry, and I very much wish that you were not forced to bear such a burden but you have taken up the role with more courage and determination than I could have imagined. That being said, I urge caution with who you share this burden with, if you understand my meaning."

Harry nodded, his expression grim. He did understand. Anyone that he got involved with would be in danger. If he got involved with the wrong person and shared the wrong information than he could be endangering everyone. "Yes sir," he said quietly.

Dumbledore offered a tight smile of commiseration, "despite my pleas for caution Harry, do not sacrifice happiness for war. If you do, you will quickly find that you have nothing worth fighting for. Voldemort is fighting for power. Control. You are fighting for so much more, and I would hope that nothing I ever say could make you forget it."

Harry smiled more genuinely, tension falling from his shoulders at the words. "No professor, I never forget what I'm fighting for."

HPHPHP

Harry spent the rest of the evening catching Ron and Hermione up on everything that had happened at the Summit. It had been a strange experience, talking to some of the kids of the delegates. He had been surprised when most of them spoke three to four languages and they had expressed surprise that he knew only English. Many of them had travelled all over the world and even just discussing the types of food they enjoyed had left Harry feeling rather envious at never having the opportunity to travel. Perhaps when the war was over, if he survived, he would travel. He would see the pyramids that Ron spoke about or else the ruins in Ireland that Hermione had seen once on holiday with her family.

Both of his friends had been interested in hearing about everything that he had done. Ron asked about the food and where he had stayed, Hermione had expressed disappointment that he hadn't even been able to attend the closed meetings as a witness, Ron had wondered if Harry had been closer to murdering Percy or Snape (expressing only mild surprise when the answer had been Percy and not Snape), while Hermione had been fascinated to see how the other countries had felt about certain issues.

Hermione yawned as she handed him a bundle of notes, "I copied all of the notes for you. I also made a summary of all of the information that should be on the tests with reference numbers back to the right pages in the textbooks. Oh and in case you get confused when you're reading through them, I used different colors of ink to highlight the information- red for information that is vitally important, yellow is for theory that should be reviewed for the NEWTs next year and green to match up with cross-references between subjects because we're working on the _Incarcerous_ Charm in Defense but Binding charms in Charms and in certain situations they could be used interchangeably but its not generally advisable- especially by the Aurors who think the Binding Charms are not sufficient for most criminal holds."

Harry blinked as he accepted the work, "damn Hermione... this is wicked. I think I might stop going to class altogether, I'll learn more if I just get the notes from you."

Ron opened his mouth hopefully. "Don't even think about it Ronald. I only did it because Harry was doing something really important but if the two think I'm going to start handing over my notes so the two of you can skive off classes whenever you feel like..."

"Alright, alright," Ron said holding his arms up in surrender. "Don't get your robes in a knot."

"Thanks Hermione," Harry added sincerely. "And this is brilliant because we have a lot of ground to make up for Quidditch, we missed three practices. Do you know if the pitch is free sometime tomorrow?" He asked Ron. It was a school rule that the Quidditch teams were not allowed to practice without the Captain present and Harry had felt awful about having to make his entire team miss out because he had been busy. He was going to have to talk to McGonagall about future plans since he had been given the impression that working with the Ministry was not going to be one time occurrence.

"Probably but it doesn't really matter, tomorrow's a Hogsmeade trip," Ron answered.

"Oh," Harry said in surprise, it had completely slipped his mind. "Right I forgot. Er... what do you guys want to do in Hogsmeade tomorrow?"

Both of his best friends turned red and were so concentrated on avoiding his gaze, that he didn't think that either one of them noticed the either's discomfort.

"Er... well Harry, actually Terry asked me to spend the day with him. I probably should have said something before you left for your trip but it didn't seem that important, all things considered. You don't mind, do you?" Hermione asked anxiously. "I mean... I suppose we could meet up later..."

"No," Harry answered quickly, flashbacks of his disastrous date with Cho Chang haunting him. The last thing he and Hermione needed to start doing was scaring off every potential partner one of them had because they were close friends. "Don't be ridiculous, Hermione. Have fun with your date. We'll go another time, all together or something." Harry noticed that Ron was still a bit red in the face and was shooting Harry looks that were not terribly hard to read if you understood the situation. He winked at Ron subtly before adding, "Ron and I will hang out a bit. Maybe meet up with some of the other guys, right Ron?"

"Right," Ron answered quietly.

Hermione nodded, apparently satisfied that her friends were not offended with her decision to leave them in favor of going out with her boyfriend. "Well in that case, I'm going to bed, I'm exhausted and Terry wanted to get any early start. Night."

"Night," both boys chorused after her, watching her retreat back up the stairs. Once she was out of earshot Harry turned to his best mate. "So I wasn't to going to ask but since it's come up, are you going out with Ernie?" he asked quietly.

Ron glanced around but no one was listening to the two of them, "yeah. We... we talked and I told him about... well everything and he was actually really good about it. He said that we could try being friends first and see how things go. See how I feel about it."

"And have you? Been spending time together?"

"A bit. You know our next project is due in another couple of weeks and both of want to do better on this one," Ron winced, obviously remembering their less then stellar mark on the first project. "But that gives us a couple hours each week. And then he asked me if I wanted to hang out in Hogsmeade with him... and I said that I wanted to try it out as a date."

Harry smiled at him, "Good for you Ron."

Ron rolled his eyes, "don't go all Lavender and Parvati on me Harry. I don't need you rooting me on in the wings."

"But isn't that what a wingman does?" Harry asked, brow raised slightly, grinning.

Ron winced at Harry, "er... I know what you said to Hermione but if you wanted to meet up with Ernie and me later that would be cool." Harry noticed that there was a slightly hopeful lilt to his voice, as though he was somewhat hoping that he would have a reason to end things early, perhaps worried that a whole day might be too much for their first real date.

Harry shook his head, still reluctant to intrude, "maybe I'll see you at the Three Broomsticks but don't worry about me. This isn't like Third Year when I wasn't allowed to go, I'll be fine." Harry turned thoughtful. "I actually need to get new dress robes. It looks like I'm going to have more of these Ministry meetings and I need formal robes." Harry grimaced, "I have no idea how to go formal dress robe shopping. Your mum bought my first pair and I bought one of the summer but at the time I didn't care that much about making a good impression and then they were ripped apart in the woods."

Ron shrugged, "asking the wrong person mate. I've never bought my own and you saw my robes Fourth Year," he shuddered in memory as Harry laughed.

"Actually Ernie is also looking smart, think he would help?"

Ron glared at him, "kidding. Merlin. Oh! I can ask Ginny."

"Ginny?" Ron asked in surprise. "I didn't think the two of you were really friends."

Harry shrugged, feeling strangely guilty about Ron not realizing that Harry had been spending more time with his little sister in recent weeks even though it had never been something he had been intentionally trying to hide. "We've been hanging out a bit. She's always good for a laugh and she's easy to talk to you. And girls have like er... innate shopping ability, right?"

Ron laughed but he seemed to shoot Harry a bit of an odd glance that Harry was not quite sure what to make of.

HPHPHP

Harry came out of the dressing room caught between mortification and hilarity. He was wearing incredibly shockingly purple robes with an obnoxiously high, stiff collar that was preventing his head from turning.

"You know, I think you were right Harry, these don't really suit you at all. Purple is supposed to be a very royal color and the high collar was supposed to show you're firm in your own mind so I thought it would make you look powerful for your meetings but I think you probably belong in more earthy tones," Luna commented absently.

"But it's better that he got to really see them on or else he always would have wondered," Ginny added quickly, shooting Harry a wink. Harry shook his head at her, embarrassment changing to annoyance but amusement staying firmly in place.

He had cornered Ginny at breakfast that morning and has asked her if she wouldn't mind coming robe shopping him, promising her lunch if she offered her help. She had told him that she had already asked Luna to spend the day in the town together but as long as Luna didn't mind than the three of them could go together. Never one to turn down companionship, Luna had enthusiastically agreed and had been offering her rather unique opinions all morning.

"Ginny, I think it's your turn to pick one," Harry said finally. He admitted that he had quite liked the dragon-scale armor that Luna insisted would make him look like a military general but he somehow didn't think it would go over very well during the formal state dinners when he wasn't even able to move without a loud clanking sound following him.

Ginny grinned but glanced at Luna who did not appear offended in the least that Harry seemed to be seeking another's opinion. "Yes Ginny, I don't think Harry and I have similar tastes. It's a shame really, I think daddy would have really liked him in the yellow waistcoat. Daddy always wears sun colors to weddings or when he meets new babies for the first time so I thought it might work for other occasions but it was really quite dreadful on Harry."

Ginny wandered over to a corner and came back seconds later with a set of robes she had clearly been waiting to show him until Harry had completely lost patience with trying on Luna's choices. They were a rich dark green with silver trimmings that were embroidered with fine stitching and a crest that on the left breast pocket that showed that it once bought it was charmed to display the owner's coat of arms. The robes were fitted at the waist and were made of good material, he saw it was described as 'acromantula silk'. Ginny gave him a nervous look. "Er... they're a bit expensive," she admitted guilty, "and probably a bit fancier than something you would normally wear but you and I both know that even if you don't show it off, you have the money and you should have something that really makes a statement."

Harry had to admit that they were handsome robes but he wasn't sure how he felt about making a 'statement' about anything that he wore. He took the robes with a shy smile and went to try them on, almost hoping that they didn't look good on so that he could have an excuse to get something simpler.

Harry came out and the shop assistant, who until that moment had been giving them- along with Luna's ideas- a large berth came over and tapped her wand to the crest on the left breast pocket. Harry moved to the mirror and blinked in surprise. He wasn't used to looking into the mirror and being impressed by what he saw. He had always been too short, too skinny, his hair too messy. But the robes made him look... taller. More broad. His mother's eyes seemed to stand out a bit more on his face and the Potter crest- which until that moment Harry had never seen before- stood out nicely against the green background. It was two golden lions roaring at one another.

"Harry..." Ginny breathed out, she caught his eyes in the mirror and blushed. "Er... that looks really great. Really. You need to get them. You should get two of them," she rambled.

Harry glanced down at the price and winced. He had never spent this much money on himself before and to as much spend money on a set of robes as most people spent on a broomstick seemed rather absurd... and at the same time he had never once worn anything remotely like these robes. He loved them. For the very first time in his life Harry understood why girls could spend hours looking at magazines- if those outfits made them feel half as good as he felt looking in the store mirror he would be dreaming of them too.

"I'll take these and the plain black set that I tried on in the beginning please," Harry told the assistant who looked thrilled at the sale she had made. The black robes had been his own choice. He had seen them and when he had seen that they fit he had foolishly thought that they had managed to finish the trip in only ten minutes- both girls had quickly corrected him of that misconception. Ginny had agreed that he needed a something in black, because that was what the majority of the delegates had worn as he had had told her. But she had told him that he also needed something with more 'flair' as she had put it. She had also tried to convince him that if he was going to get plain black, he should get finer quality but Harry had felt that it didn't make a difference. As he tried on the green robes, he conceded the point that there was in fact quite a difference but he wasn't about to buy two sets of such expensive robes.

"Thanks Ginny, Luna I really appreciate your help. Can I take the two of you to lunch for helping me?" Harry asked.

Both girls happily agreed and the three of them spent a cheerful hour exchanging stories. Harry filled both of them in on what he could tell them about the Summit meeting. He knew he wasn't allowed to talk about any of the potential plans that were being made or even which countries were thinking of allying with them, but everyone in Britain knew that Harry had gone. He was set to finish signing off on his mandatory press release about his involvement that night and it would be in the Sunday edition of the _Prophet_. Both Luna and Ginny were interested in what Harry had done and who he had met.

Ginny had teasingly informed Harry that he needed to stay at Hogwarts from that point onward because without the regimented Quidditch schedule, she was not responsible for her actions. Harry had always known that Ginny had a bit more of the twins in her than her other brothers and she had been caught pranking the Slytherin Quidditch team so that every time a goal was let in one of the hoops during their practice there would be the sound of cheers, thanking the Keeper for helping secure a Gryffindor victory in the next match. The Keeper had become so flustered and frustrated that he had nearly attacked his own Chasers out of sheer rage when they had scored again.

Ginny was now serving detention for the next four days, though she confided rather conspiratorially that she felt that McGonagall had been rather amused by her idea.

Luna had shared exciting news as well. It seemed that her father, Quibbler Editor Xenophilus Lovegood, had received a series of letters from a man claiming that he had in fact found the long fabled Crumple-Horned Snarack. According to the man, the creature matched the description of the creature that other researchers had used but it was a tricky bugger and he wasn't able to catch more than a few glimpses of it. He was hot on its trail but he had been travelling for several months in pursuit of the elusive creature and since he knew from the many articles the Quibbler had published on the creature that Lovegood was interested in it, he wanted a cash advance to continue to follow it, photograph it and properly study it in its natural habitat.

"Your father didn't send a stranger a bunch of money just because he claimed to find a creature the two of you have been looking for, did he?" Harry asked incredulously. It was fairly obvious what was happening and though he had never met Luna's father, he had the impression that Luna's view on the world had been heavily influenced by him. Which to Harry meant that the man was more than likely a kind-hearted, imaginative man, that had a lot of good sense about some things but was also entirely too naïve about other things.

"Well of course he did. Do you know how rare it is for someone to not only spot one in the wild but to also have the patience to want to chase after it? Daddy says it's very lucky that the man not only has the time to travel but reads our articles enough to know that we would be willing to help him."

Ginny and Harry exchanged concerned glances, "Luna," Ginny started cautiously, "just how much money did you dad send him?"

"Well not as much as he really wanted to. The exclusive interview that you gave last year was really good for sales Harry, but it's very hard running your own publication. Daddy wanted to send him more but we could really only manage 500 galleons."

Both Harry and Ginny were too stunned to properly comment. With an average conversion rate of 5 pounds per galleon, Lovegood had just dropped an awful lot of money on a stranger. "Luna...did the man offer you guys any proof that he had actually had seen a Crumple Horned Snorkack or are you just going on his word?"

Luna looked quizzically at Harry's question, "what reason would he have to lie?"

"To get 500 galleons Luna. That's a lot of money," Harry answered tensely. He liked Luna. In spite of her strange clothes and very blunt way of speaking, she was one of most genuine people he had ever met. She cared about people and wanted very desperately for them to care about her. After growing up with the Dursleys, Harry took a while to really warm up to people. He liked most people but he trusted only a handful. Luna had grown up lonely and out of place but it took very little for Luna to like just about anyone. She was the single-most optimistic person that Harry had ever met and he hated the idea of anyone taking advantage of her or her father.

However, Luna did not take very kindly to Harry's concern at the moment. "I know that you and your friends think I'm silly for believing in something that no one has seen but I don't blame you for your beliefs, I wish you would respect mine." It was the most forceful that Harry had ever heard the blond Ravenclaw speak.

"Luna I do respect your beliefs. I don't know if there Crumple-Horned Snorkaks or not, but honestly speaking I would love it if there were. I like that you have faith in things, but believing in the existence of a creature that you've heard about but no one has ever seen and giving hundreds of galleons to a man that isn't offering you any proof other than his own promises that he's seen one are two different things."

Luna's eyes were uncharacteristically narrowed at him, no sign of her dreamy expression on her face at the moment, but her gaze had softened at his words as she saw that he was not disparaging her beliefs, only her choices on how she had acted on them.

"It's not really different Harry. I believe that the man will either come back with tons of pictures or he'll come back and tell us that he tried and he wasn't able to find anything. Either way, I know that he really will try. I don't need to see it to know that people are good. I have faith in them. If I needed to see proof, then it really wouldn't be faith at all, would it?"

Ginny grinned at him but he caught a bit of mischief in her eyes, "she's got you there, Harry."

Harry sighed, "I suppose you do. But please be careful Luna. I know there are good people- and that isn't just faith, I've seen it. But I've also seen a lot of bad people. You have as well and in the end it doesn't matter much how much you believe someone is one thing when they've already decided to be something else."

Luna smiled at him, "have you ever considered writing for the Quibbler Harry? You really have a way with words."

Shortly after that conversation, Luna left to finish up some shopping, making a rather abrupt exit by most people's standards but Harry had learned a while ago that Luna had a tendency to go where the mood took her in the moment.

Once she had left, however, Harry suddenly felt a strange awareness that it was only the two of them. He had never intentionally spent time alone with Ginny before. In the past it had always been because they had happened to be the last two at Quidditch practice or else had gotten down to a meal in the Great Hall before any of their other friends.

"Er... thanks for coming shopping with me today Gin, I really appreciate your help. I would have bought that first robe and probably nothing else."

Ginny smiled at him, "those green robes really do look great on you Harry. I-" she seemed to catch herself from saying something else and blushed awkwardly. "Er... anyway... er did you meet anyone interesting on your trip? Any... veela or something?" she asked, blushing as she spoke as though she had said something she had been intentionally trying to avoid.

Harry grinned, "no, nothing like that."

Ginny bit her lip and after a moment of indecision, leaned in and kissed him quickly, almost chastely, on the lips, Harry froze. Too stunned to respond at first and his lack of reaction seemed to act like a stimulant on his companion. Ginny reeled back, her expression mortified and stood quickly. Just before she went to move, Harry's Quidditch reflexes snapped into focus and he grabbed her wrist as though it were a snitch.

"Wait. I'm sorry," he breathed quickly, still surprised by the abruptness of her actions. She seemed almost as surprised as he was.

"No, no don't be ridiculous, you have nothing to apologize for..."

"Oh yes I absolutely do, because that was not the way I should have reacted. I used to think I was pretty good on my feet but that was the worst Constant Vigilance I've ever done in my life," Harry told her, his own face heating slightly. "I really should have done this..." and he leaned back in and kissed her, more fiercely this time. Making sure that she knew that he meant what he was doing.

After a moment Ginny released a shaky breath and pulled back. "I- I really thought that I was being an idiot..."

"Gin I have really liked spending time with you. You're funny... you're the best Quidditch player I know."

"But?" Ginny asked, her posture stiff as though she knew what was coming and was angry that it would come after he had returned her gesture.

"But you're my best friend's sister."

"You mean his little sister," she corrected accusingly.

"I really don't want to think of you that way at the moment, thanks," Harry replied drily. Honestly, the way she had said 'little' made him feel as though he was kissing a little girl, not someone that was only a year younger than himself. She laughed at his comment and relented.

"I mean that your brother is the closest thing _I_ have to brother and while that doesn't mean much about I feel about you- it will matter to me if he's not alright with it."

"I don't need Ron's permission-"

"I do." Harry answered quietly. At Ginny's furious gaze he explained, "Not permission like, 'is your sister old enough to date me?' but I need to know that this isn't going to ruin our friendship. I'm sorry Ginny... but I couldn't do that to Ron, I couldn't take it."

Ginny scowled at him but after a moment her expression softened, "I suppose that's fair. But Harry I'm telling you now if you want us to be together- Ron is either alright with it, or he isn't. I'm not going to have some three-way relationship with my brother where he makes all these snide comments every time we snog or I have to worry about he's going to tell Mum. Or he makes you feel guilty for spending time with me. Talk to Ron but if he's a prat about it and you're going to take his side, tell me straight away, is that a deal?"

Harry smiled at her, kissing her more deeply than before. Somehow she had managed to make him like her even more.

HPHPHP

Harry made a beeline for the Common Room, intent on seeking Ron out and speaking to him as fast as he could but as it turned out Ron was quite easy to find, but seemed to be in no mood to talk. Ron appeared rather worked up about something and was currently ranting and gesturing wildly to Hermione who was listening with a rather stony expression on her face, but Harry couldn't make out what they were saying. All he heard was a strange buzzing noise, it took him a moment before understanding clicked. A couple of weeks prior Harry had tested out a few of the spells that HBP had written in his potions book and one of them had been called _muffilto_ , which made it impossible to eavesdrop on conversations. Hermione still disapproved heavily of the book and everything in it, but Ron had latched onto the innovative ideas.

"Is this private or can I hear too?" Harry asked rather rhetorically since he knew that if Ron and Hermione were to actually hide a conversation from him they would not be doing it in the Common Room.

Ron waved his wand cancelling the first spell and recast it again to include Harry. "You will not believe what happened to me today!" he said angrily once the spell was back in place.

Harry looked at him in surprise. He knew from his own experience that first dates did not always go well but he couldn't see what could have happened to make Ron this upset, nor had he expected to tell Hermione about it since Ron had seemed keen to keep whatever relationship he and Ernie shared together a secret from her at the moment.

"Er... rough day?" he asked uncertainly.

"You could say that," Ron lashed out. "And it's all bloody _Ginny's_ fault, when I see her I'm going to be giving her a piece of my mind about minding _her own damn business_."

Harry blinked in surprise. He had spent the last half hour during his trip back to the castle worried about speaking to Ron about Ginny but he had not been prepared for Ron to already be upset with her. "Er- what happened?"

Ron let out a breath of air through his nostrils reminding Harry of an angry Hungarian Horntail that was bent on destroying the first thing in its path. "I met Bill for lunch," Ron answered, still in ill temper but marginally calmer. "And he brought his old friend of his, Sarah."

"But isn't Bill engaged to Fleur?" Harry asked in confusion.

"That's what I asked him," Ron answered tersely. "As it turns out, Sarah wasn't really there to see Bill, she was there to talk to me. She's a bloody mind Healer that my parents wanted me to talk to since Ginny wrote home whining on that I've been having terrible mood and taking it out on everyone."

Harry looked at Hermione in confusion about this explanation since she was now hearing this rant for the second time and perhaps she could see why Ron's parents were so worried about him being upset for a couple of weeks. Hermione pursed her lips but answered, "Ron was just explaining to me about his Uncle Roger and how he suffered a breakdown this past summer. He hadn't said anything to me about it before now but he told me that you knew?" she asked Harry without accusation. Hermione did not seem to take her exclusion from this information personally but she did seem rather thoughtful about Ron's family history with mental illness.

"Yeah he told me over the summer when he visited me while I was in hospital. So you think that your parents are over-reacting because your uncle had a breakdown?" he asked, still confused. He didn't see how the two related to one another.

Ron scowled before admitting with seeming reluctance, "everyone always said that I took after Uncle Roger. That I acted just like him. Even when I was little, everyone in the family would comment on it. Our grandparents, aunts, uncles," Ron shrugged. "I used to really like it. He was my favorite uncle for most of my life because..." Ron flushed awkwardly, "well basically I always figured since he was doing really well and I so much like him, I would end up the same way. Only now," Ron's expression darkened, "apparently mum and dad are already convinced I've ended up the same way."

Hermione picked up the story from there, "it turns out that Bill went school with Sarah Walker, and now she works as a Mind Healer. Ron's parents wanted Bill to get her to talk to Ron because..." Hermione seemed to wince apologetically, even though Harry wasn't sure who he was apologizing to, "apparently Ginny wrote home and told him that Ron's moods have been a bit...erratic and...dark."

"They're over-reacting because Ginny got her feelings hurt for a minute and she had to go running to them like always and they always take her side over mine. It's always been that way. They would never think that she's making to much things, instead I have to talk to Healer," Ron seemed to be more ranting to himself than speaking to them and working himself into a fine temper.

"Ron," Harry said calmly, "what did Bill's friend say?"

Ron looked at him with a cross between surprise and betrayal, "I didn't talk to her! Once I found out why I was there, I told Bill where he could shove it and left."

Harry winced, he wasn't sure if that was the best way to hand things but he honestly couldn't say he wouldn't have done the same thing if he had been angry enough.

"Ron," Hermione said, lips pursed, "it wouldn't have hurt just to talk to her. Sort out the misunderstanding."

"Oh because now that I got angry, everyone is going to think I'm some sort of nutter?" Ron challenged defensively.

"No," Hermione answered patiently, "but there's nothing wrong with suffering from a mental illness, it's genetic. It's not like you can help it and your parents were just worried about you."

Ron blinked, his expression stunned for a moment before it returned to defensive. "What is that supposed to mean? 'its not like you can help it', you think they're right?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head, "no, I'm just saying, without talking to someone, how would you know? Wouldn't it better for the Healer to tell you have nothing to worry about?"

"I don't have anything to worry about!" Ron shot back at her. "This is about... this about them, not me!" Ron struggled, and it seemed to clear to Harry that there was a lot in that statement that Ron was not saying

Hermione's mouth twisted in thought and Harry could only hope that she wasn't about to say what he thought she was dying to tell Ron. Apparently Hermione's observation skills had already been taxed enough at the moment and she failed to notice the almost imperceptible shake of his own head that he could not resist giving in warning.

"Ron, I know you're upset but your mum and dad were trying to do the right thing. They were worried about you. Sometimes... well sometimes parents have to make hard decisions to keep their kids safe. They did it because they care about you. I think if you calm down you could see things from their perspective."

Harry winced at Hermione's words. She meant well, he knew that but he wasn't at all surprised when Ron's face turned beet red and his own mouth twisted into a snarl. "What the hell do you know about it? Is there ever a time that you don't have the answers? Just ONE time, can you at least pretend that not everyone should have all the answers the way you do?" Ron stomped out of the room, his temper clear.

Harry let out a breath and pinched the bridge of his nose under his glasses.

"Ron is being ridiculous! This is why they were worried, he takes everything so personally," Hermione huffed in bad temper.

Harry sighed and lowered his hands before giving her an even look. "Sorry Hermione, I have to side with Ron on this one."

Hermione looked startled before her expression shifted to one of frustration, "honestly Harry you have to see that they meant well! There's nothing wrong with talking to a doctor- Healer- to make sure that everything is fine. If Ron would just think about it from their perspective-"

"I never said that I thought you were wrong, Hermione," Harry interjected quickly his tone quiet but firm. "I said that I have to side with Ron on this one."

Hermione's anger melted and turned to confusion. Harry knew that the idea of siding with an argument that you knew to be in the wrong was an alien concept to Hermione. "What do you mean?"

Harry weighed his words for a minute, trying to think how best to explain what he was trying to say to her. He had wanted to avoid ever confessing this transgression to Hermione but he supposed Ron's need was bigger than his lingering embarrassment over the incident.

"Did you know that I trashed Dumbledore's office last year?" he asked her his voice still quiet.

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. Harry nodded his head as though to confirm a question she had not asked. "He has all these really delicate, special magical instruments and I just smashed them. Yelled at him too."

Hermione was clearly dumbfounded. She was so surprised that she was not even berating him as he had expected. "When...why would you do something like that?"

"It was right after Sirius died."

Hermione's eyes lit with understand but her expression darkened. "It still wasn't right Harry. I know you were hurt but-"

"There's no 'but' Hermione," Harry corrected her, not unkindly. "I know everyone thinks of Sirius as this friend of my parents that I knew for a couple years and only saw a few times. I know that you and Mrs. Weasley and probably most of the Order think he was irresponsible, or that he thought that I was just this replacement for my dad. But..." Harry shook his head. "He's the closest thing to a father I ever had. I loved him Hermione. He was... I can't really describe to you what he meant to me and... every single decision I made was the wrong one when it came to trying to protect him. I was so angry. I was angry at Dumbledore, at myself, at Voldemort... I was even mad at Sirius. And not just after he died- I had been angry for months

"I wrote you that letter over the summer telling you most of this and I really am sorry for taking it out on you and Ron so much but I don't think you even realize how bad it really was for me last year. Every day... _every_ day was rough, Hermione. My scar hurt all the time, everyone but the two of you seemed to hate me, the newspapers were calling me either insane or a liar and the whole time the Order and Dumbledore were just making everything worse. It was like I got all of the blame for the war and none of the control. I know Mrs. Weasley and the others think me wanting to be in the Order was about getting to fight Death Eaters and being in on their secrets but it wasn't about that. Not really anyway. It was about... it was about being able to do something other than just... drown in it. They didn't even give me the ability to fight back..." Harry trailed off. These were old problems and there was no use getting stuck in bitterness. Still as he thought back on that time the familiar feeling of injustice came back to him, surprising him with the strength of it after so much time.

"My point is, in that moment I just snapped. It was like everything had caught up to me at once and I couldn't take it anymore. I wanted to blame Dumbledore." Harry snorted, "Actually in that moment I wanted to run. I wanted to be anyone but 'Harry Potter'. Earlier that night Dumbledore saved my life, Voldemort shot the Killing Curse at me and..." Harry couldn't finish the statement. He hadn't thought about that exact moment for a long time. The green light hurtling towards him, his own wand pointing uselessly at his side and Dumbledore's seemingly miraculous appearance. He hadn't wanted to die, not in some active way at least, but the idea of having to fight back, having to continue to fight indefinitely after he had already lost so much had seemed so overwhelming that he had been left impotent in a way that he had never felt before. He couldn't go back to that place and instead shifted gears.

"Dumbledore saved me from Voldemort and then I smashed up his office," Harry finished with a bit of wry smile. "And do you know what Dumbledore said after I did it?"

Hermione was looking at him with aching concern and he knew that she was taken aback by his confession. She had often accused him of not being open enough about his feelings. She had worried about his reluctance to discuss anything personal but it felt different for Harry when he knew that he was doing it for a friend. Ron wasn't ready to articulate- perhaps even to himself- how this seeming betrayal by his parents had hurt him so as his friend, Harry would get Hermione to understand why she needed to be patient.

"What?"

"First he told me that I could carry on smashing everything to bits and then he said that he wanted to make sure that I understand what he had done because he didn't think I was as angry as I should be at him. Dumbledore made a lot decisions about my life- more than he ever had a right to make and a lot of those decisions wound up hurting me. He also told me that some of the worst decisions he made was because he had been trying so hard to spare me. To protect me. Dumbledore had no right not to tell me the prophecy after Voldemort came back, but I do understand why he did it."

"But see-"

"I said I understand _now_. I got to be angry. I got to say my piece and smash up his office. Honestly speaking Hermione, if Dumbledore had told me to 'calm down' that day, I don't think I ever would have spoken to him again. It doesn't matter that you're right about why the Weasleys did what they did. I tend to agree with you, Ron talking to a Mind Healer doesn't mean that he has the same illness as his uncle. His parents being concerned because he happened to be upset for a few weeks when they don't even know the reasoning behind doesn't make him sick either. My point is, Ron is our friend and he's angry. That means that we're angry too," Harry added with a bit of grin.

Hermione blinked and then her face crumpled and, quite to Harry's utter surprise, tears sprung to her eyes and she sank down onto the sofa. "I really have made a mess of things..."

Harry, caught off guard by her reaction, moved sit next to her but made no move to actually touch her, unsure what he should do with this latest turn of events.

"It's alright Hermione. You know how Ron is. He gets angry, but he forgets about it. It's not that bad..."

Hermione shook her head back and forth, "no...no that's not what I mean..." she muttered before going quiet, a few more stray tears falling.

They sat in a few moment so tense silence before Hermione confessed quietly, "Terry and I broke up today."

"Oh." Harry answered dully, wincing as he realized that this was probably not the proper rejoiner to this comment. "Er... this might be better if you talked to Ginny... or Lavender, she's broken up loads of times I bet she has tips or something," he offered weakly causing Hermione to give him a reluctant chuckle alongside a reprimanding glare for his insensitive comment.

"You have to give Lavender credit, she is persistent," Hermione muttered. "She is determined to find herself the right person."

"And you will too. You were too smart for him anyway," Harry told her with a grin, remembering a couple of different times that Hermione had complained about Terry's 'limited thinking' when they were discussing bills for the Ministry.

He had meant it as a compliment but Hermione's face flushed and she bit her lip uncomfortably before looking cautiously around as though to make sure that they weren't overheard. "Harry... never mind, I'm being ridiculous."

Harry frowned and took a seat on the arm of her chair, "what did I say?" he asked thinking over if he had said something insensitive.

Hermione huffed impatiently as she explained with no small amount of exasperation, "you didn't say anything that I... well... tell me the truth Harry do you think that sometimes I'm...too smart?" she asked, sounding uncharacteristically self-conscious and angry with herself for the insecurity.

"Well considering that you're friends with Ron and I, I would say that an easy position to be in," Harry answered with a grin before he put his hand on his shoulders and addressing her seriously. "Hermione you're the smartest person I know aside from Dumbledore and maybe McGonagall and I think that's amazing. You work hard to be smart and you've never seemed to feel the need to apologize for it before, so why now?"

Hermione let out a shaky breath, somewhere between anger and a sob. "I'm being ridiculous. You're right, I work hard to do well, I _like_ doing well, getting the best grades, and I shouldn't... I shouldn't have to apologize for being smart!" She said it strongly but it seemed as though she was trying to convince herself more than him.

"No you shouldn't," Harry agreed, mostly because it seemed that she needed to hear it.

Hermione shook her head, "But... I just... Ron's right too. I always...I can just never keep my mouth shut. When I know the answer to something, I know I should just let it be sometimes and I... can't," she admitted flushing.

"Terry is second in our class or at least him and Daphne are, right behind me and I thought... I thought that he was someone that I would have a lot in common with. We both love to read, we like to challenge ourselves in school, we like puzzles. But... sometimes I wonder if by studying so hard, by always...needing to be right all I'm doing is pushing people away. But because he is so smart he knows what he's talking about and..."

"And when you know more its even harder to keep quiet?" Harry guessed. He couldn't quite relate to how Hermione felt, he had never been top of the class and even in Defense where he was confident in his skills, he had never felt that same need to show everyone that he knew the answers. In fact, Harry preferred to stay quiet in class and avoided raising his hand. But he was a competitive person, when it came to Quidditch he would do anything to get to the Snitch first and the better the opponent the more anxious he was to prove that he was better. He could only assume that Hermione felt the same way.

"Parvati was right, Terry got fed up with me constantly challenging all of his ideas but what does that mean? Am I really that awful to talk to?" Hermione asked miserably, her eyes filling with tears.

This time Harry did reach around and give her a hug, "Hermione you are brilliant. And you should be with someone that knows you're brilliant. I think you went out with Terry because you thought that you had so much in common, but maybe you should be trying for similar interests instead of similar personalities. You're my best friend Hermione but you just said, you like to be right. I don't think that's a terrible thing but you need to find someone that maybe doesn't mind being wrong."

Hermione looked up at him surprised, "that's... really clever Harry."

"Ah well then sorry Hermione, things will never work out between us either considering I'm so smart that I'm probably never wrong either."

Hermione laughed at his joke, swatting his should as she called him a prat.

HPHPHP

Harry found Ron a while later up in their thankfully empty dormitory. He had cooled down and was working on their Charms essay. "Hermione didn't mean it the way it sounded," Harry started. "You know Hermione, brilliant but sometimes her mouth gets away from her tact."

Ron snorted but didn't look up from his essay for a moment. He seemed to be considering what to say. "Do you think she's right? That I should have talked to this Sarah Walker person?"

Harry shrugged, "Dunno. I mean personally I think you're asking the wrong person. I was in a bad mood for like a year and if someone had asked me to spill all my secrets and worries to a stranger I probably would have hexed them. But Hermione is right in saying that talking to a therapist doesn't mean that you're sick. I told you about my cousin right?"

Ron frowned in thought but nodded, "Yeah, but I thought that he was sick."

Harry took a seat on the bed and gave an uncertain head gesture, "yes and no. He has PTSD, er...Spell Shock, which basically means that he was fine until he saw something so messed up that he couldn't really deal with it. It's not his genes or something he was born with so I'm not sure whether or not they can't count that as a mental illness. He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time." Harry bit his lip. "I think I probably had it after the Tri-Wizard Tournament," he admitted quietly.

Ron looked up at him in surprise. Harry gave him a rueful smile. "I was looking at the symptoms when I found out about Dudley. It said that people that have it have nightmares, get angry for no reason, have trouble sleeping- sound familiar?" Harry asked.

"So it just... went away? All by itself?" And Harry knew what Ron meant.

Harry shrugged, "I think for some people they can work it out over time. But other people need some help. Dudley's doing a lot better. He wrote me last week and he was out of school for the first couple of weeks, still working things out but he's back now and he's doing better than ever. Making better grades, doing well in boxing. He told me that he arranged so it so he can still speak to the same woman he's been talking to once a week, she's a muggleborn witch that works with wizards and muggles and goes out of her way to Apparate to his school to meet with him. The school thinks she's local. Dudley was a wreck after what happened over the summer but he sounds happier now than I've ever heard him."

"But you wouldn't want to talk to anyone," Ron pointed out flatly.

"No," Harry admitted, "honestly... I might be a Gryffindor but the idea of having to sit down with someone I don't know and go through the worst things that have ever happened to me terrifies me. It sounds like torture. I know some people would argue that I'll feel better when it's over but I really can't see it. I guess my point is, people are different. I don't think one thing works for everyone. But talking to someone doesn't make you weak or sick."

"So what are you saying I should do?" Ron asked.

Harry shrugged, "I think you should take your time and think about what would make you feel the best and do that. I do think you're parents meant well Ron, but they aren't you and you haven't done anything where you have to prove yourself or your sanity to them."

Ron seemed to think on this for a moment before allowing the tension to fall out of his shoulders. "Thanks Harry."

"No problem, now I want to hear about you and Ernie..."

All he got in response was a thrown pillow in his face and firm, 'none of your business.'

HPHPHP

A few days later Harry was wincing as he reached for his toast.

"Merlin Harry," Ron chuckled as he helped him along before grabbing his own piece and sitting down across from him. "Rough night then?"

Harry sent him a glare that was diminished by the fact that currently he was too tired to move his facial muscles very much. As part of his agreement with the Ministry for being the 'face of the Ministry' and allowing the press to see him working alongside them, he was being trained by a professional Auror on how to fight. The night before was the first time he had been able to meet with his trainer and he had been both surprised and excited to see that it was Tonks that the Ministry had sent.

His excitement however had quickly evaporated when he discovered that Tonks was actually a sadistic monster that delighted in torturing him. She had blasted him with hex after hex as he had struggled to keep up with her grueling tempo as she had shouted criticism at him for over an hour. Then she had moved on to what she had referred to as 'physical conditioning', which had included running up flight after flight of stairs to nowhere in the Room of Requirement, pulling weights that were heavier than his own body weight and making his way through an obstacle course that he was fairly certain that no muggle school would have signed off allowing its students to do.

"Are we certain that Tonks isn't a spy or something for Voldemort? Because I'm fairly certain that she tried to kill me last night and make it look like an accident."

Ron laughed and Harry sent him another withering glare just as Hermione and Ginny both took seats next to Ron and Harry respectively. Harry had yet to find a decent time to speak to Ron about his sister and every time he saw the two of them together his guilt laid in his stomach like a heavy stone. Ron had been in better spirits after they had talked but Harry knew that it was still a difficult time for his best mate and didn't want to make matters worse- particularly given the fact that Ron still blamed Ginny for involving their parents in his life in the first place.

"Speaking of Tonks, what the bloody hell has been going on with her?" Ginny asked the group. "She was always this really happy, cheery person and now... she looks like someone stole her dog and refuses to give back."

Ron nodded, "she's been like that ever since the summer. Remember how weird she was at the will reading Harry?"

Harry had to think back, he had been so distracted at the time that he hadn't really given much thought to the Tonks. He had noticed that Narcissa Malfoy had been acting odder than usual but everyone else's attitudes he had put down to grief.

"Well obviously Ron, Sirius was her cousin! Of course she would be upset. Actually," Hermione turned thoughtful. "Do you think that maybe...Tonks was in love with Sirius?"

Harry's eyebrows shot up, "with her cousin?" he asked in shock.

Ginny rolled her eyes, "technically she does have the Black blood so incest can't be ruled out."

"But Tonks isn't like that!"

Hermione shook her head, "first of all I don't think any of us know Tonks well enough to say exactly what she's like. But don't forget, Tonks didn't know Sirius until they were adults. She didn't grow up thinking of him as family, so romantic feelings wouldn't have been ruled out that easily."

Harry shook his head, "I know that you usually know more about this stuff than I do, but this time I think you're wrong. First off, they didn't meet for the first time as adults. Sirius told me that Tonks' mum, Andromeda, was his favorite cousin. He used to babysit Tonks as a kid for Merlin's sake. Don't you think dating someone that you used to...change the nappies of is pretty gross?"

Hermione shrugged as if to say that she couldn't disagree but didn't have any other explanation for Tonks' aggressive behavior since Sirius' death. "All I know is that Tonks took his death very hard. It might just be the fact that she had been fighting Bellatrix before Sirius and she let her get away and feels guilt but if that was the case I would think that would feel more sad than angry. This seems... misplaced," she said thoughtfully.

Ginny nodded, "and they do say that anger is one of the stages of grief, don't they?"

"Someone better kick her into the next stage quick then," Ron grumbled causing Hermione to frown at his tackles comment and Harry to laugh. "What is the next stage anyway?"

"Bargaining," Hermione and Harry answered in unison, everyone looking at Harry in surprise that he would know such a thing. He shrugged uncomfortably. "Pretty sure I hit all of them after Sirius died," he muttered, thinking back to the denial he felt at seeing Sirius falling through the curtain and the fact that if Lupin had not pulled him back he would run after his godfather. The anger he felt at smashing up Dumbledore's office, the feeling of relief that he had felt at realizing that he could come back as a ghost and he could still see him in some way, the depression he fallen into when he had realized that Sirius would not be a ghost. And finally his dream when he known for certain that Sirius was happy with his parents.

"McGonagall actually talked to me about at the end of last year," he explained. "I didn't really pay much attention at the time, mostly I wanted her to leave me alone, but she was mostly just saying that everyone has a hard a time when they lose someone close to them and sometimes they follow that pattern but not always and that if I needed to, I could talk to her."

His friends nodded and slowly they realized that the tables were emptying and it was time for class. Harry groaned, it was Defense first up and they were dueling. Although he usually looked forward to more physical lessons, the idea of having to run and duck was horrifying at the moment.

Thursday came and Harry was face down on the floor for the 12th time that night and he was really starting to lose his temper. "Come on Harry you leave your left side too open. You need to compensate for weaker side but at the same time keep your eyes on the field. Right now you're only facing one opponent, in battle scenario spells are going to come from all angles so you need to hone your senses!" Tonks berated him angrily. It was good advice but she had been blasting away at him for over two hours and Harry was not as adept at spells as the qualified Auror. She was not only quicker with her casting but had a much larger repertoire of spells in her arsenal and seemed determined to prove it to him. Harry was quicker on his feet than she was but he had quickly discovered that one could only dodge in a confined space for so long before they ran out of energy.

"I'm trying!" Harry shouted in frustration. "I blocked you-"

"Until you didn't!" Tonks argued. "It doesn't matter that you got away from most of the nasty spells Harry, it's always the last one that gets you."

"Do you want to finally tell me what the hell your problem with me is?" he finally burst out in frustration.

Tonks blinked, clearly surprised by the sudden shift. "Who said I have any problem with you?" she asked, her posture much stiffer.

Harry shot her a wry look, "ever since the summer you've been giving me this... attitude like I've done something to you. And from the way you looked after Tisdale said that your family tried to challenge Sirius' will before it was read, I think it was your idea to get rid of me as Sirius' heir."

Once again Tonks flushed, her hair turning as red as her now flaming cheeks. "That... I shouldn't have done that..." she muttered and all of the sudden her shoulders slumped and she took a seat in the chair that sprung into existence in the room at her obvious wish. Harry was surprised at the abrupt change, having expected her to deny it first.

"You're right you know... I've been a real prat to you, I think that's putting it mildly."

Harry anger dissipated slightly at the admission that he had been treated badly but not entirely, however now curiosity was winning out. "So what did I do to make you so upset... is this about Sirius?" he asked hesitantly. So far no one had blamed Harry for Sirius' death and though he had made his peace with the part he had played in it and did not feel guilty, that didn't mean that others didn't feel the same way.

Tonks looked up with a guilty expression, "Er... this is embarrassing... I- yes in a way it's about Sirius but not really the way that you think."

Harry frowned. "Alright..." he said slowly, "so... do you blame me? For Sirius coming to rescue me when I shouldn't have been there?"

Tonks shook her head, "No, honestly I would have done the same thing. It was a brilliant plan. Getting you out of the school by using your godfather. Of course you would have gone after him, I know I would have, I think any decent person would have."

"Then what is it?"

Tonks bit her lip and looked at him uncertainly before she seemed to come to a decision. "I was seeing Remus," she confessed. "Well... I mean not really...dating isn't the right word... but things were about to take off, do you know what I mean?"

Harry was not sure that he did but nodded anyway having no desire to get more in depth with whatever she was describing so he nodded, "and it didn't work out?"

Tonks scowled and every feature on her face- including her hair- darkened. "I wouldn't put it that way. Sirius had been the one that was most encouraging Remus to give us a chance. But when Sirius died it was like all of Remus' stupid worries were suddenly justified and he broke it off entirely. Well..." she scoffed, "not entirely but he's made it clear that he doesn't want a relationship."

Harry decided not to clarify that second statement for a moment and went back to the first. "What was he worried about?"

Tonks shot him a look of exasperation as though Harry were being intentionally dim, "you know that Remus is insecure about being a werewolf, right?"

Harry nodded, he had seen the pained look that crossed Lupin's features any time his condition was mentioned. The sad look of resignation that he seen when Ron had first told him that he didn't want Lupin to touch him in the Shrieking Shack because he was a werewolf. "But what does that have to do with being in a relationship with you?"

Tonks threw up her hands, "Exactly! That is what I keep telling him. And Sirius did as well. Sirius told Remus that being a werewolf only mattered once a month so that was no reason not to share your bed with someone else for other 27 days in the lunar month and I think Remus was really starting to come around but after he died... Remus is convinced that he's too dangerous to have a relationship with someone that isn't another werewolf. He seems to think that the fact that Sirius died proves that he didn't know how to keep people safe or that he was wrong about the two of us," Tonks shook her head, her hair now turning an electric type of purple that reminded Harry of the vein in Uncle Vernon's head when he had reached the danger limit on his temper. "And that's not even all of it! He says he's too old for me. And then tells _me_ that _I_ would be happier with someone else! As if he has the right to decide who I should be happy with!" Tonks ranted, clearly allowing the frustration from the past months to well up within her.

Harry looked at her, rather stunned by the extent of her confession, unsure how to respond. "I'm sorry," he settled for saying, mostly because he really didn't know what else to say. "Er... I'm sorry that he doesn't feel the same way-"

"Haven't you been listening to anything that I've been telling you?" Tonks snapped angrily before taking a breath and making her temper settle down before speaking more quietly, and more politely, Harry was grateful to note. "It's not that he doesn't feel the same way. I could accept it if he didn't feel the same way about me as I did about him. I mean yeah," she shrugged, looking disgruntled as he seemed to realize what he was about to say. "I would hate it. It would hurt and I'd feel a bit miserable for a while but I would get over it. I'm not this pathetic lovestruck little girl that's going to pine away for someone that doesn't love me back. The problem isn't that Remus doesn't feel the same way, it's that he has every other excuse in the world for us not to be together except that! The fact that he's dangerous, the fact that people will talk about us- about me- for being with a werewolf, about the fact that he's over a decade older than me, the fact that I might want kids one day and he doesn't, the fact that we're both in the Order during a war," Tonks shook her head, more depressed than angry now. "It's just... I know that he cares about me but that doesn't seem to matter and that..."

"Makes you pissed off," Harry concluded, understanding where she was coming from. He had never experienced the same thing but he did have experience with people excluding him from things under the guise of supposedly protecting him.

"But... not to sound self-centered or anything, but why are you so angry with me?" Harry asked honestly.

Tonks winced, "I... well in my defense I've been a bit nasty to everyone..."

"Not the best defense," Harry answered drily, but privately felt he was being a bit hypocritical on that point. He had certainly taken his temper out on Ron and Hermione plenty of times last year when they hadn't been the source of his anger.

"I guess I did blame you. Not for Sirius dying," she added quickly when Harry's face froze, "but... for being someone that Remus hasn't distanced himself from. Before Sirius died, we were getting really close. He had his reservations but Sirius was encouraging him to live his life and not to waste time. Things were...good. But after Sirius, Remus just decided to cut everything off. Oh sorry, not everything, he still wants to 'be friends'," Tonks said the word friends as though it had been the greatest personal insult that she had ever been given. "But we were done as far as he was concerned. But he still wanted to go with you to the will reading. Still cared about you. I..." Tonks shook her head and looked thoroughly miserable. "I suppose I've been acting a bit out of jealousy," she admitted quietly, her tone sounding as though she had just come to the conclusion herself.

Harry looked up at her surprise. "Tonks... you really have nothing to be jealous about. Lupin- Remus that is- and I... we get along. I like him, and I respect him for everything that's he's done for the Order, for teaching me the Patronus Charm in Third Year when most teachers would have just told me it was too hard and not bothered. I like that he actually knew my dad and isn't just someone that feels like they know because they read a bunch of articles in the Prophet, but we aren't really that close. I don't think that he was choosing me over you."

Harry had meant to sound comforting but instead Tonks seemed to deflate a bit further, the color fading from her cheeks and hair so that it was a duller, more normal but less exciting shade. "I suppose you're right but as mad as I was at you... it was easier thinking that he had chosen you over me. Instead of choosing...nothing." Harry didn't know what to say so he stayed silent, hoping fervently that this was not going to descend into tears. He would rather Tonks go back to yelling at him than having to see her cry.

"I owe you an apology Harry. I've been terrible to you, and not just this summer but during these last couple of training sessions. I know about the deal you made with the Ministry, agreeing to go to all of their events as their little poster boy if they actually train you to fight. Something that quite honestly they should be doing anyway." She rolled her eyes. "It was a really generous deal you made Harry- you're giving them almost everything that they want and it doesn't seem like you get a lot in return."

"If you train me well enough I might get to live," Harry said wryly, intending to make a joke but Tonks startled expression showed that she did not find it very funny.

"Can we start over? I stop yelling at you and you telling me what I can do to actually help you?" Tonks asked.

Harry smiled both in acceptance of her apology and in relief that these sessions might become helpful instead of agonizing.

"Sounds like a brilliant plan to me. Wotcher Tonks," Harry said with a grin as he raised his wand for the next duel.

 **A/N: Thanks once again.**

 **In case anyone was wondering, PTSD is classified as a mental illness but I felt that some people think of it a bit differently since it's something that occurs when you witness an event rather than something that originates from a chemical imbalance. MRI images have shown that PTSD can actually alter a person's brain (though I could not begin to explain how exactly).**


	25. Pet Projects

**Chapter 25: Pet Projects**

 **Draco POV**

Draco took the offered cup of black tea, grimacing slightly at the bitter taste. Draco had learned that the professor liked rather bitter tea and though his breeding had trained him to never disparage the tastes of a person that was to be admired, he privately preferred more herbal blends. There were no cakes or biscuits, there never were, and Draco wondered if the man ever indulged in anything as frivolous as a sweet treat between meals. Despite the rather weak tea service, Draco found himself looking forward to these little meetings with Snape. For an hour every week or two he was able to relax and allow himself to forget about all of the problems that he was struggling to handle on his own. He was able to imagine for a moment that he was just a student and that the adults were able to fix everything for him, just like when he had been a little kid. It was strange really, Draco had spent years waiting to be old enough to be trusted to handle things on his own, and now that he had suddenly found himself in the position of having to take care of his family, he found himself torn between pride and a desperate desire for someone else to take over the responsibility.

"I'm glad to hear that your mother is doing well. Have they spoken of releasing her?" Severus asked politely after Draco had finished telling him of the encouraging letters he had received from both his mother and her Healer about her health. As his father was officially an escaped felon, he was unable to contact either them, officially at least, which meant that legally Draco was the next of kin. Despite being underage, he was 16 which allowed him just enough authority to have control over her medical treatment. When Severus had helped check his mother into the institution they had insured that he had the power of attorney over all of her affairs with the exception of her vault, since the Goblins refused to strip the authority over accounts from the original owner unless they were deceased.

Draco straightened his posture in an effort to curb the desire to fidget at the question. The question of his mother returning to the Manor was a difficult one, one that his father had explained tersely over the paired mirrors that they used to communicate with one another. Though Severus was well informed of their situation, Draco was unsure if he should be informing the man of this latest complication- though to be honest he doubted that a man as intelligent as Severus hadn't already thought about it.

The Dark Lord was currently taking up residence at Malfoy Manor- a position that should have granted their family privilege and esteem in the eyes of the other Death Eaters, and perhaps it did but in actuality it entailed an added level of scrutiny from the Dark Lord that made their position all the more difficult. Draco had seen how pale and unnaturally tense his father had been and though he had been surprised by the change in a man that had always exuded strength to him, he had known that it meant that the situation was delicate. With his parents unable to speak to one another directly, it had fallen to Draco to try and relay messages and luckily Mother seemed to have improved enough to appreciate the position that she would be in if she returned home.

In fact, Mother was doing much better, there were no fits of alternating anger and confusion, no mistaking people for their younger selves, no more loss of time. However, both of his parents seemed to be in agreement that being under the constant watch of the Dark Lord was too stressful of an environment for her, and though he did not have as clear an understanding of what it meant to be in the presence of the great man the way his parents did, Draco trusted that they were right. It also meant that she was left with limited options. The Healers were advocating her release because they worried that too long in an institutionalized environment might actually be become a determent now that she was recovering, but Draco didn't know where he could send his mother without attracting the wrong sort of attention. For the moment he was refusing the Healer's requests to bring her home, insisting that she needed to be in one hundred percent good health before she could be seen among society.

"The Healers appear confident that she could support herself," Draco settled for answering neutrally. Severus nodded and it was clear that he understood that just because she was well enough to come home, did not mean that it was the best option.

"And Lucius? You've been rather quiet in regards to how he has been the last couple of weeks," Severus noted, brow arched inquisitively.

Draco pursed his lips to keep from answering with a rather scathing remark regarding the fact that usually when one avoided bringing up a topic it meant that the person didn't want to discuss it. However, Draco found himself in the unusual position of feeling he owed something to another person. His Head of House had gone rather above and beyond the call of duty in regards to him over the past few months and Draco found himself uncommonly touched by the man's actions, especially when it could be a risk his own welfare. Severus and his father had been friends since their school days and Draco knew that in spite of the fact that Snape was not a Pureblood, Father found his skill and intelligence worthy of note. There had always been respect between the two wizards and something that a Gryffindor might call friendship. Still, in spite of the fact that Severus had been close to their family for many years, he would never have thought that the man would be willing to put himself on the line for them in any way.

Draco knew enough of Snape to know that the man played his cards extremely close to the vest. As far as he was aware, Snape was the only person alive that had the ear of both Albus Dumbledore and the Dark Lord and Draco found himself inordinately impressed with the Slytherin expertise that it required for a man to position himself so that he could literally not lose the war. Survive and then thrive. It had been the most important lesson his father had instilled in him but it seemed that Snape was the true master of achieving it.

"He's been doing well at the Manor. He's recovered very well from the Dementors and he's working to regain some of the trust that was lost when Potter and his squad of sidekicks managed to get him arrested," he answered, his tone turning petulant at the end. He had found in recent weeks that he needed to remind himself that he still owed Potter for that one. He and the boy-wonder might have called a temporary truce in the woods, and Draco might have even been... impressed with the fight he had witnessed between Potter and the Dark Lord, but he could not forgive the slight on his father. Nothing was more important than family and he would not allow Potter to walk away with destroying the Malfoy name without a fight.

Severus stirred his tea and gazed at him impassively, waiting for Draco to go into more detail. To confess to his problems the way he might have done in First or Second Year.

"Have you spoken to him about your plans?" he finally asked when it was clear that Draco had no intention of saying any more.

Draco bristled at the question, unsure exactly why it upset him so much. Perhaps because after years of his Father telling him about the 'glory days' of serving the Dark Lord when he had been young, Lucius had suddenly been urging Draco to be cautious when dealing with him. Perhaps because he was too proud to admit to his father that he had not made any progress yet but refused to ask for help. Perhaps because he saw how strained and tired his father seemed whenever they spoke and he didn't want to add any more stress to his burden.

Or perhaps because there was small part... a very small, but somehow uneasily silenced... part of him that didn't want to succeed at all.

"I plan to tell him when it's complete. There's no need to speak with him until I'm prepared for the next stage of the plan and that won't be for quite a while. When the timing is right," he added as though his postponement of his plans was intentional and not because he was struggling to get it accomplished.

Severus gave him a frustrated, rather tired look, "Draco I have told you that I can help you, if you would only tell me what you plan-"

"You've helped me a lot this year and I appreciate your efforts," Draco answered with as much dignity as possible. He had always been taught not to show gratitude for things that should be his by right. "But I can handle things on my own from here on out, thank you. This is my project. The Dark Lord gave it to me to prove myself and..." he faltered as he almost admitted that given his current position he needed to prove himself even more than he had originally intended but instead decided it was better to place the blame elsewhere. "And after those bloody werewolves ruined our plans for Potter, I now need to work harder than I should to ensure the Dark Lord knows of my talents. _My_ talents," he added significantly. "When I manage it I will become his most honored Death Eater."

Severus was a man that was impossible to read. His face rarely shifted and in all of the years that he had known him, Draco could count on one hand the amount of times he had seen him even remotely surprised- and he was fairly certain that each time had involved Harry Bloody Potter in some way. And so once again he was uncertain how Snape felt precisely as he said, "the Dark Lord is an impatient man Draco. Believe me when I tell you that no success you have will ever matter as much to him as a failure, for that is what he constantly waiting for. He does not forgive, and he never forgets. You admit that your plan is not ready to be executed- this is not a school project that can be delayed until the deadline. He might have given you until the end of the school year but he will grow impatient long before that. He wants results and he wants them now."

"What about the search?" Draco asked, as much to get the attention off of himself and the fact that he had no viable way of fixing that thrice-damned cupboard, as to get actual information.

"It has been difficult," Severus admitted. "These artifacts have been missing for centuries. Leave it to Potter to do the impossible and retrieve the sword, but it's possible that each object may only be summoned by use of the Sorting Hat, in which case the Dark Lord would need the Hat which sits in Dumbledore's office. Even I can't get to it. And if we did manage it take it from the office, by all accounts Potter could only pull the sword because is truly is the epitome of Gryffindor foolishness, this implies that all of the other objects would need to be retrieved in a similar manner, which makes it easy to get to the Shield of Slytherin or even the Map of Ravenclaw but we happen to fairly light on Hufflepuffs."

Draco smirked. "Why do we even need the potion? With the Dark Lord wielding the sword, shield and map its not like he's actually going to get hurt."

"The idea is to combine all of the objects to have the most power Draco. It has never been done before and most wizards don't believe it to be possible but give yourself a moment to recognize the significance of such an act. If you were to hear that someone had managed to control all four of the Founder's weapons... would you fight against them?"

Draco shook his head. He remembered the stories from when he was a child, it was said that anyone that could gain control over all four objects would be considered the most powerful sorcerer in the world. The person could claim victory before they had even entered into a fight. Except... _Draco_ wouldn't have to worry about fighting the Dark Lord.

"I wouldn't be an idiot, but if you think it's going to stop Potter you should trade Houses with Sprout."

"Mr. Malfoy I urge you not to take my hospitality as a sign that we are contemporaries, you will show me respect," Snape snapped.

Draco stiffened, "yes sir," unhappy with the reprimand but smart enough not to escalate the argument further at this point.

"But you're right, Potter is not one to waver from his goal. He... would have made quite an interesting Slytherin, don't you think?"

"P-Potter?" Draco sputtered in disbelief, trying to think if he had ever heard the professor joke before because that was the only explanation as to why he would make such a ridiculous statement. "A Slytherin? You must be joking."

"Draco, you and Potter have pitted yourselves against each other from the moment you've met one another. I can't say I'm surprised, Potter was raised vastly differently from yourself, I can't imagine that as children you had anything in common."

Draco couldn't argue with that. With the revelations that had recently come out about Potter's relatives he had been forced to admit that he had led a much more privileged lifestyle than the so-called Boy-Who-Lived. What was more, Potter seemed to have risen above whatever kind of muggle-horror show he had come out of and didn't seem to let it affect him, something Draco was not sure he would have been able to do. He thought back to the cave and the fact that Potter had been so strangely understanding about his phobia of small spaces. At the time he thought that Potter had no way of understanding the fear of being trapped in a small space. It had terrified him as a child but then he had overheard Greengrass confirming to Nott and Davis that Potter had in fact grown up in a small cupboard. Draco was certain that he would never be able to fathom the mind of Harry Potter, similar experiences or not.

"However," Snape continued, pulling Draco out of his own musing, "you are old enough now to recognize that no matter how much you might disagree or even despise another person, it doesn't mean that you should underestimate what they are capable of doing. Always know your enemy Draco- weaknesses and strengths. Potter is impulsive to the point of recklessness. He will always lead with this heart over his head. He is powerful but lacks actual skill in dueling and his spell repertoire is pathetic. He lacks all subtly and when it comes to cunning he would rather barge into a situation blindly than take the proper time it takes to assess or, Merlin forbid, ask for help.

"That being said, Potter is ambitious in his way. He may not actively seek out accolades or position and he has shown little interest in being a prefect, both before and after the job was given to Weasley nor can I imagine that he has his sights set on being Minister of Magic one day. And yet Potter will fight the most powerful wizard of our time until one of them is dead. He might lack focus on his studies or in following the rules but when Potter wants something, he wants it obsessively. I imagine it is the reason that Potter has demonstrated such success on the Quidditch pitch," Snape admitted grudgingly. "He has skill as a flier but Potter will also never lose sight of his goal. There's a rumor that the Gryffindors have a little saying that they pass down to their Seekers- 'get the Snitch or die trying'- and in the 15 years I have worked in this school and the 25 years I have seen Quidditch matches being played I have never seen anyone take those words to heart the way Potter does."

Draco remembered a young 12 year old Potter refusing to be taken out of the game after a bludger had been charmed to go after him because he had wanted to win. Potter had broken his arm and still grabbed the snitch. It had been the first game that Draco had lost to the Gryffindor and sadly not the last.

"Point made," Draco admitted sourly. He took pride in his House and the idea of Potter being in it, even hypothetically, rubbed him the wrong way. He glanced at the clock, "I should be going, sir. We have lessons in 10 minutes."

Snape inclined his head and made to stand. "Draco... Potter might be ambitious but there is a reason he is not in our House. You, however, I hold to a higher standard. Do not make Potter's mistakes. I am here to offer you help and I warn you that it is better to share the glory with others from the Dark Lord than to be subjected to the punishment alone. Cunning, Draco. It is what separates us from the other Houses and if you fail to use it I promise you that you will not survive this war."

Mouth suddenly dry despite the tea he had drank, Draco nodded. He would not ask yet. He was still certain that he could succeed. He should have put his alternative plans into motion during the first Hogsmeade weekend but he had stalled thinking that it would be better to wait until his real plan was set. And he had worried that the package might get intercepted. But Snape was right, the Dark Lord would not forgive mistakes. He needed to take action. Halloween. That would be the night to act.

HPHPHPHP

It was the day of the Sixth Year Paired Project Presentations and Draco's patience had long since been exasperated. When he had been unexpectedly paired with Neville Longbottom of all people, he had been immensely disappointed. Growing up in a very traditional Pureblood household, Draco had learned about the names and traditions of many of his classmates long before he had met them.

He had known that the Weasleys were a disgrace to their bloodlines and couldn't scrape enough knuts together to properly clothes their many children. He had known that the Patils were a rather wealthy family from old stock but they had traditionally pro-Muggleborn sentiments, this was usually excused among many of the Pureblood circles because no one in the family seemed to hold them strongly enough that they had ever been willing to fight openly for them. He had known that Notts were fiercely loyal to the old ways but were smart enough to avoid being known practitioners of the Dark Arts. While the Malfoys had a large variety of rather dark items- even after Arthur Weasley's raid at the end of Draco's Second Year- Draco had a feeling that their collection and knowledge of the Dark Arts paled in comparison to Alexander Nott.

And so he had also learned that in spite of the fact that Alice and Frank Longbottom had been proud blood-traitors, they had also been formidable wizards. Neville Longbottom had been on a short list of people that Draco had been told to look out for in terms of power and possibly position. Lucius had been curious of the boy, Augusta had been almost notoriously protective of her grandson when they had been young and few people had known much about him. There had been rumors circulating that he had been a squib but when the Longbottom family had announced shortly after Neville's 11th birthday that he would attending Hogwarts, those had been put down.

Until Draco had seen the boy in class. Neville, it seemed, was nothing at all like his parents and while he had been granted entrance into the prestigious Hogwarts, it was apparently by the skin of his teeth. While not a squib, he was little better than. Neville was usually among the last of their class to pick up any of the spells that they were learning, with the obvious exceptions of Crabbe and Goyle (at least in most cases- both boys were uncannily good at any curses or hexes that involved inflicting pain). And it wasn't as though his theory work was much better. Longbottom had the memory of a goldfish and therefore struggled just as much on written tests as he did on practical ones. He was so scared of everything around him that Draco could only imagine that he had been placed in Gryffindor because if bravery was facing your fears, the boy must have garnered all of his courage to simply get out of bed in the morning.

Draco had been anticipating having to carry Neville's portion of their project but he had at least been content with the fact that he had been partnered with someone that would not challenge his authority. Longbottom was no leader and Draco could not have imagined that he would push to have his ideas featured in any meaningful way.

But it seemed as though Draco had entirely miscalculated in just about every conceivable way. He was beginning to think that Longbottom had either encountered some sort of strange experiment while he had been down in the Department of Mysteries or else he had been replaced with some sort of clone from another dimension- one in which Longbottom was not an utter waste of space. He could think of no other logical explanations for the changes that had occurred in the teenager since the start of the school year. Because if there was one thing that Longbottom had made abundantly clear from the start, it was that he was not about to take orders from anyone. In fact, he had seemed strangely obsessed with not only giving the directions but ensuring that he was known as the leader of the team.

The strangest part of it all was the fact that Longbottom had actually improved. It had started the previous year and Draco had attributed the increase in his magic to a burst in confidence that had been facilitated by Potter- who Longbottom had all but worshipped since First Year when the shorter, skinner boy would defend him from bullying. But while Longbottom had certainly done better in their OWL year than anyone would have guessed for him in their earlier years, it was nothing on how he was performing now. Though still not as skillful- or obviously as powerful- as Potter, Longbottom had been consistently at the top of the Defense class since the start of term. Tackley adored him and in her eyes he could seemingly do no wrong. Even after Potter's team had trounced theirs in the mock battle, Tackley had still been impressed with Longbottom's ability to follow her orders. Draco rather thought that was the appeal of Longbottom to Tackley- he would follow orders. Potter questioned everything and was never content to do something the 'proper' way if he believed that he, or someone else, had come up with something better. In other words- Potter was a true leader and not a puppet for someone else. Tackley loved protocol and the fact that she had found someone to obey her commands, even as she called him a leader, kept both parties satisfied.

However, Longbottom was doing well in their other subjects as well. While he struggled in Transfiguration and was only in the middle of the class when it came to Charms, he and Granger were facing off for the top Herbology spot and he was coming along better than he had ever had in the past when it came to overall performance. And yet, despite the fact that Longbottom had apparently finally found out which way to hold a wand, Draco found the boy more annoying than ever.

"Are you sure that you're prepared for this?" Longbottom asked, brow raised slightly as they made their way outside where the presentations would be featured. "You're not going change anything at the last minute are you?"

"Worry less about me and more about remembering that Tackley's not here to pat you on the head for showing up Longbottom," Malfoy scoffed, his eyes narrowing at him in anger.

Draco was pleased to see that his remark had hit its mark. He had ruffled Longbottom and had momentarily stopped him from retorting. If there was one advantage to dealing with the now-only-slightly-pudgy boy over the Gryffindor Golden Boy it was that Longbottom lacked Potter's ability with comebacks. Potter had an almost Slytherin way with words- quick, sharp, and down-right cutting when he wanted them to be, he was also- Draco reluctantly admitted if only to himself- fairly funny most of the time. When it came to verbal barbs, the only way to show that Potter truly was a Gryffindor was the fact that Potter rarely attacked first.

"I just want to make sure that you don't panic like in Third Year with the Hippogriffs. We did well last time but we both agreed that we wanted to get the top spot."

Draco rolled his eyes, "as does everyone. Just don't forget all your lines and we'll be just fine Longbottom," Draco answered cuttingly. Avoiding voicing his doubts about their ability to get the top spot. He had been taught growing up to lead with confidence, if you showed the world that you were capable, than they believed it. Draco, however, was not as blind to his own faults and limitations as some people might have thought. He knew that Granger and Boot were the most likely to grab the top spot, if no other reason than neither one of them were likely to do anything else with their time besides work on their project. Draco had far more important things to worry about. Between worrying about his parents and securing his own position with the Dark Lord, asinine school projects that were designed to build tolerance between himself and Neville Longbottom of all people were a waste of his time.

"What do you think..." Longbottom cleared his throat, seeming uncertain about voicing his next question. While the project had obviously been designed to get the Houses to work together and perhaps even develop new ways of thinking, Draco could honestly say that that goal was an undeniable failure. He and his partner had carefully avoided discussing anything that wasn't strictly needed for their project and hated every second that they were forced to spend with one another.

"What?" Draco asked impatiently.

"Do you know what Greengrass and Harry are working on?" he finally asked in rush.

Draco raised an eyebrow, "really Longbottom? Merlin knows Slytherins are known for our discretion so I imagine you know that Daphne hasn't said a word to me, but I always thought you Gryffindors sat around your fireplace and shared all of your deep, dark secrets."

Longbottom flushed uncomfortably but muttered something along the lines of, "never mind."

If he were honest, Draco couldn't deny that he too was curious about the only other Slytherin/Gryffindor match up in the school, and what they would come up.

As though their words had caused the sudden apparation of the two people they were talking about, Potter and Greengrass came into view, having their own last minute arguments about the project. "We should have practiced it again!" Greengrass was arguing. "But Merlin forbid the Gryffindor Quidditch team suffer because its captain is incapable of budgeting his time appropriately."

Potter was looking frustrated but determined to keep his cool, Draco had- after all- provoked the response enough times to recognize it, though he was slightly surprised that Potter seemed to have more patience for his partner than he would have for most other people criticizing his behavior.

"Daphne, we're fine. We have a great project and once we know it works, I don't see how proving that it works a million times matters."

Daphne grumbled something that sounded vaguely along the lines of 'can't all survive on dumb luck like you' but stopped when she noticed that their conversation was not private. As a true Slytherin, Draco knew that the girl hated having others witness a vulnerable moment. She would have liked to have either presented a strong, united front with Potter, or else show that she had complete control over him. But her nervous nagging was not something to be broadcast in front of their competition. Draco found it an interesting quirk of Houses that Potter did not look at all surprised that they had been overheard- meaning he had been paying more attention to his surroundings than his Slytherin counterpart, who was usually known for their suspicion and observation, but did not seem at all concerned that they had been caught mid-disagreement.

"Hey Nev, you guys ready for today?" Potter asked, friendly as always to his Housemate.

Longbottom smiled but it seemed rather stiff to Draco and he was fascinated to see the change in the formerly timid boy. He had spoken to Severus about Longbottom the week before he and Potter had gone to their Ministry conference and the Slytherin Head of House had his own perspective. Severus felt that while Neville seemed to be feeling rather independent as of late, the boy truly was a consummate follower. Though Draco had never met Augusta Longbottom in person, he knew enough to know that she was somewhat of a legend among Pureblood circles. Powerful, intelligent, and shrewd enough to use her influence only when it truly mattered to her, the matriarch of the Longbottom family, despite her flawed politics, was considered a worthy adversary by his father, and Draco had always respected his father's judgment. She had also beaten her grandson into submission over the years. Severus' theory was that for the first time in his life Longbottom had proven himself to be something other than a sniveling little coward that hid behind anyone that could protect him- and his grandmother had been thrilled. She had no doubt built him up over the summer holidays, telling that he had finally fulfilled the family honor and had no doubt let his head get a bit too big for its own good. Building up her pathetic godson as a hero when really he was just too stupid to turn around when Potter told him to come along. And now the would-be-Golden-Boy was actually trying to challenge Potter's position.

But the part that Draco found truly hilarious was that Potter seemed to have no idea that his little sidekick was even trying to take his spot. Which made the thing a bit sad for poor pathetic Longbottom, who was so far out of Potter's notice that the more popular boy had yet to even realize that he had been increasingly snubbed all year.

"Longbottom, Malfoy," Greengrass greeted coolly. "Ready for the presentations?"

"Of course," Draco answered with confidence. "We've tested our method quite well," he added snidely and was rewarded with a slight flush of her cheeks. Potter gave him an unimpressed look that was strangely more hurtful than if the other boy had said something insulting back to him.

"So who do you reckon they're going to get to judge this one?" Potter asked. "They got Slughorn for the last one but he's really only a potion's expert, isn't he?"

"I would imagine that Dumbledore has other reasons for Slughorn being here than a simple contest," Draco responded, rolling his eyes. Potter was an amazing mixture of highly observant when it came to strangest events possible in the castle and completely daft when it came to the most mundane of motivations behind things.

Potter raised an eyebrow inquisitively but said nothing, knowing that Draco would not volunteer that information without a price.

"So... is everything alright between you and Ron?" Longbottom asked and as he spoke it was with a return to the usual friendliness that had always engaged Potter with. Draco wondered if the other boy even consciously registered his feelings towards Potter, or if he did, if he felt guilty about them.

"Trouble in paradise for you and Weasley?" Greengrass asked archly. "And here I thought that you two were going to go the distance."

Potter glared at her but there was a hint of amusement in his eyes as though she been more teasing than insulting towards him. "We had... an argument but it'll be alright. Ron's upset but..." Potter shrugged and he shot Longbottom a look that seemed to say that he would explain more later, when he wasn't surrounded by others.

"Is this about the sister?" Greengrass asked shrewdly.

Potter came to a sudden stop and stared at her in surprise. "Wha- how did you come up with that?"

Daphne rolled her eyes, "honestly Potter, you would think after all this time you would realize that you can't sneeze without the school talking about it. People saw the two of you in Hogsmeade. I hear the passion was undeniable," she added drily. "So my guess is Weasley found out that his very best friend and quite possibly one true love is shagging his sister and he threw a typical Weasley temper tantrum- does that sound about right?"

"First of all, no one is shagging anyone," Potter corrected, chivalrously defending Weasley's honor. "And... Ron wasn't happy about it."

"Not really his business," Longbottom commented sympathetically. "You tried to be honest with him from what I heard about it. Ron knows you well enough to know that you don't just mess girls around. I thought he was bang out of order."

Potter shifted uncomfortably. "Ron's always been protective over Ginny. As the youngest boy, she's really the only one that he ever got to protect and the two of them were close growing up- closer than the rest of them. Bill and Charlie were at Hogwarts for most of their childhood and the two of them have each other, if you've ever met Percy you'll realize that he doesn't play nice with others, and the twins have each other. Ron always thought of him and Ginny as the last set. But after Ginny's First Year," and here Potter shot an unreadable glance in Draco's direction, "Ron felt especially protective over her."

"Ginny's not a little girl, she's a year younger than Ron and if you think she needs protecting just because she's a girl than you're a real hypocrite Potter," Greengrass argued.

"I never said that she needed Ron's protection, I said I understand why Ron feels protective. To be honest if it was another girl and someone else was her brother, I might tell them go screw themselves, but Ron is my best mate and I won't do that to him."

"Even when he's being a bit of a prat?" Longbottom asked with a grin, giving Draco the impression that in spite of Longbottom's strange new attitude, he found it hard to stay mad at Potter for any real length of time.

"I've been Ron's best mate for over five years, you think its news to me that he's a prat?" Potter answered with a grin.

"Who do you think has the best chance of getting the top score on this one?" Longbottom asked, changing the subject.

"When it comes to class assignments I always just assume Hermione is going to do the best," Potter answered with a casual shrug.

"Not this time, Granger and Boot had a little lover's quarrel and I can't imagine that they're going work well together after that," Greengrass contradicted him, looking smug. Granger's consistent stint as the class leader had always been a sore spot for the Purebloods of the class- Daphne in particular as she should would have been vying with Boot for the top spot if it hadn't been for the mudblood's uncanny magical ability.i

"How do you know about that?" Potter asked quickly, clearly surprised that his partner possessed so much information about his group's love lives.

Greengrass smirked at her partner, "I have my ways Potter. Not much gets past me." A bluff for the most part, there was plenty that got past Greengrass- most of which consisted of whatever crazy adventure Potter got himself into every June- but she prided herself on being well informed despite not having Pansy's, or even Patil or Brown's- reputation for gossiping.

"Well I wouldn't bet against Hermione."

"So much faith in your little friend Potter?"

Potter only smirked at her. "Absolutely, but I also happen to know that when she's upset, she studies. Actually she studies when she's happy or frustrated or just about any time but when she's upset and studies, she's a woman possessed."

They debated back and forth a bit longer before they were out on the Quidditch Pitch where the presentation was set to begin. The four Heads of Houses had their Sixth Year classes scheduled so that they all met on Wednesdays after lunch, which made it possible for them all to be present at the presentation without rearranging their classes.

Each team had been told to pick any creature of their choosing and either discover something new about it or else train it in a manner that had never been done before. It was a challenging and perhaps even dangerous task, especially with a quarter of the students possessing typical stupid Gryffindor foolishness that no doubt felt that the only way to make an impressive project would be to nearly get killed in the process. Though Draco was no fan of his rival House leader, he could at least appreciate the fact that McGonagall seemed to know exactly what to expect from her idiotic House.

Which meant that that unlike the Potions project, which had been presented in the dungeons, the Care of Magical Creatures Projects needed much more space and preparation. All of them had been given specially designed cages to house their creatures, ones that were supposedly impenetrable. The cages could then transport any creature from one cage to the other, so that when the time came to present, one team member only needed to recite the appropriate spell and their Creature would be summoned to the cage that was currently residing in the center of the pitch, surrounded by a transparent shields designed to keep the creatures away from other students in case something went wrong during one of the presentations.

Much as Draco had thought, Slughorn was once again present and busy chatting up a number of wealthier students. He seemed to be trying to catch Potter's eye but the Gryffindor was currently giving the man a wide berth. Draco shook his head, if he had ever been in Potter's position, he at least would have known how to use his fame.

"Students," McGonagall called, her crisp voice cutting easily over the chatter of fifty-odd voices. "I trust that you are already standing with your partners. Take your assigned seats, they are in the order you were given to present. I also trust that you all followed instructions and placed your projects inside the appropriate cages."

They all took their seats outside of the staging area and Draco noted that Potter was sitting away from his little sidekicks. Weasley was sitting with McMillian who was speaking to him quietly and Granger was sitting near them, looking as though she was trying to avoid having to talk to her own partner. Potter gave a wave to Granger, which she returned but Weasley looked as though he was currently intentionally ignoring him.

Most of the teams came up with fairly standard projects. Despite being told that the training or discovery should be unique, most people merely used whichever quality was most rare. However there were a few standouts among the crowd. Weasley and McMillian, in a bid to no doubt make up for their pathetic first project, had trained Cornish pixes to dance to a Weird Sisters song which got a good amount of laughter from the crowd but was actually impressive considering the pixes were notorious for refusing to follow any directions. Flitwick in particular seemed to take an interest and cornered both boys to discuss what they had done.

And there was Gryffindor Patil and Fletchley who had attempted to use pygmy puffs as a means of a secret attack against intruders claiming that no one would expect it, which was obviously true but unless the intruder was planning on being distracted by the fact that a cute little ball of fluff was comically attempting to growl in their direction then Draco considered it a failure.

Granger and Boot had managed to put their true love of high grades in front of any petty school romance that they might have had and used a potion along with a boggart as a means of retrieving repressed memories. Instead of simply seeing a person's greatest fear- real or imagined as they might be- the potion was designed to target traumatic events and bring them forward to be viewed. It was a convoluted project that was more theory than practice since it was impossible to show if one had in fact recovered any repressed memories or if they were merely seeing their fears in front of them but Slughorn was certainly impressed and Draco overheard them talk about bringing the treatment to St. Mungo's to try on victims of severe spell shock that weren't able to talk about their experiences to Healers. Draco glanced over at Potter and Greengrass to see if Daphne was upset that her theory had been proven false and that once again Granger had proven to an unrelenting know-it-all, but he quickly noticed that it was Potter's reaction that was much more interesting. Potter was looking at the presentation with an odd expression on his face that Draco wasn't sure what to make of at the moment.

After a few more projects of unworthy note, Draco and Longbottom stepped forward to present their creature, which was more plant than Creature if one was being honest. The truth was, Draco had only taken Care of Magical Creatures because it was an easier option than Ancient Runes and his father had already forced him into taking Arithmancy. He took it for the easy O and nothing else and usually even the increase to his grade average was not worth having to deal with half-breed Hagrid and his nearly unintelligibly mumbling alongside dangerous monsters that he seemed to delight in showing off to underage children. Longbottom was no better at the subject but he was strangely good at Herbology and so when his partner had suggested that they do a project that depended more on those skills than on wrestling with some strange beast Draco had agreed quickly. Intending on leaving Longbottom to do most of the work.

And as strange as it might be to admit, Draco had been fairly impressed with Longbottom's progress over the past month and had wound up being more involved than he had originally thought he would be. They had been teaching adult mandrakes how to speak, reason, and even read. While Mandrakes had always possessed personality, they were limited as far as intelligence. They had the ability to speak a few select words but were mostly instinctual beings, which made wizards want to only use them for restorative properties, often overlooking the advantages to working with a plant that was actually alive. By pairing them first with small animals to get them used to sentient life and how they interacted with one another (and ensure that they received credit on a project that was supposedly centered on Creatures not plants, as Draco had pointed out to Longbottom with irritation), then working with the Mandrakes personally- which had been extremely hard since they had been forced to use highly specialized ear-muffs just in case they started to cry- they had managed to accomplish quite a lot. A few more months and Longbottom wondered if it was possible that the Mandrakes, with their magical properties, would be capable of casting simple spells. Sprout looked especially proud and Snape gave them both a stiff nod. Slughorn also appeared impressed, he was a man with a firm sense of the importance of a bottom line and the fact remained that their project had just opened the door to market Mandrakes in far more ways than a simple restorative.

Potter and Greengrass were up next and Draco was unsurprised to see that Slughorn was already giving Potter a warm smile of appreciation before he had even started. The magical cage was reset to bring out the next creature and everyone else stood back behind the shields. Daphne raised her wand to call forth their project, just as Potter flicked his own wand in Weasley's direction, conjuring and securing a blindfold.

"Hey!" Weasley shouted out, his expression furious.

"Trust me, you'll thank me later Ron!" Potter called out with a grimace in his friend's direction and Draco could see that Potter was worried that he had just inadvertently escalated his fight with Weasley. The reason for his actions became clear immediately as soon as Daphne summoned their creature the rest of the class gasped in a combination of shock and horror. The teams thus far had all tried to be impressive which meant that most teams with a Gryffindor had flirted with the more dangerous creatures. There had had been hippogryphs and even a runespoor that had caused alarm until they had learned that it had been defanged and therefore presented no actual danger. The rest had been boggarts, kappas and even a grindylow. Leave it Potter to come up with something that left Draco longing for the days when Hagrid had tried to have them raise Blast-Ended Skewrts.

Daphne Greengrass, who had never taken Care of Magical Creatures and was probably the only First Year to ever complain about flying lessons as an eleven year because 'all they're managing to do is rumple my robes' had just called up a full grown Acromantula.

There were a few screams and Draco noticed with a sense of unease that even Sprout and Flitwick looked a bit nervous while McGonagall and Snape looked downright furious.

" _Serpensortia Engoria!"_ If Potter and Greengrass had been going for shock and horror with using an Acromantula as their project, it had nothing on the enormous snake that emerged from Potter's wand in that moment. Draco had never seen a snake so large in his life and if he didn't know for a fact that wizards were unable to conjure Basilisks but had to breed them, he would have been convinced that that was what was standing before them in that moment. Over 30 feet long, black with red, angry lines the snake was terrifying to them all- including the acromantula, who instinctively tried to get away.

Potter hissed his unintelligible language at the snake who immediately turned its attention toward its master. Daphne was the real surprise, face pale but composed, she was in charge of keeping the acromantula in place, and so far her containment spells were working. Forcing the acromantula to cower and obey the whims of its greatest predator. The snake snapped angrily at Potter and they appeared to be arguing, Potter's hissing dropped to a menacing growl that sent shivers up his spine and he saw a couple people in their year- Boot, Crabbe, Goyle, McMillian, Bones, Abbot and even Brown- instinctively bow their heads in a submissive gesture. Draco heard Slughorn gasp slightly at the sight and he knew enough to know that as former Head of Slytherin House, Slughorn must have heard the same rumors that he had heard, one of the main reasons why Parseltongue was considered such an evil skill to possess.

Not only did a parselmouth have the ability to communicate and thus control snakes, a very powerful one was rumored to be able to make humans submit to their will, briefly, as well. It wasn't as strong or as controlling as an Imperious Curse, which took away the free will of its victims, forcing them to obey the caster's every command even if it meant killing a loved one or even themselves. However, a parselmouth made a person _want_ to follow them. It made their reasons for doing something sound better than the might have ordinarily, disobeying a parselmouth was said to feel like a severe disappointment, like a small child that gone against their parents' wishes and felt bad for doing so. It was possible to disobey, in fact the person was not forced to go along with anything the speaker said, but there was still a sense of control that should not have been natural which made wizards fear it. Draco had never seen the Dark Lord use this particular skill but it was rumored that he had not relied on his charisma alone to rally support to his cause.

For his part, Potter was so concentrated on the snake that he did not appear to have noticed his influence on his classmates at the moment. Draco caught sight of Granger standing next to a still- blindfolded-Weasley, whispering into his ear, no doubt telling him what was happening. He saw the moment when the Pureblood (if by blood if not by manners and behavior) Wizard realized what had Potter had done and his expression shifted from surprise, to outrage to concern in the briefest of moments.

In the meantime, Potter had won his argument with the snake and it was now controlling the acromantula while a now rather white-faced Daphne stepped forward to explain their discovery. "As you are all aware there have been extremely few people that have had success in being able to control acromantulas. They are not only physically large, but surprisingly intelligent. So intelligent in fact that there is at least one that has learned to speak English. With this knowledge Potter and I-" Here Potter shot her a pointed look that plainly showed exactly who had come up with this idea, "er, rather it became clear that if acromantulas were capable of learning English they were capable of learning other languages as well. We discovered through research in the forest, and with the help of Mr. Hagrid," Daphne added, clearly torn between wanting to take credit and not wanting to have to admit that they had entered the Forbidden Forest illegally, "that because Basilisks are the spiders' natural enemy, they are born with the ability to understand its language as a defense mechanism. Despite understanding the language, acromantulas and parselmouths do not share the same relationship that speakers share with actual snakes, which means that while snakes feel compelled to listen and often obey a human parselmouth, acromantulas feels no such compulsion but can understand what is being said or when they are being threatened. It was then that we discovered that by conjuring a snake that resembles a basilisk in every way baring its deadly glare, a parselmouth was able to control their natural enemies and it was at this point that we decided to use one creature to control the other."

It was a unique idea, Draco was fairly certain that he had never heard of anyone doing it before, of course with the exception of the Dark Lord, Potter was probably the only parselmouth alive at the moment. It probably would have won first place hands down if not Potter being a bit too good with his ability and reminding everyone why parseltongue was so feared among wizards.

"Er...yes, very good. Very good indeed," Slughorn said awkwardly as the snake snapped at the acromantula to perform a series of directions. Move left, move right. Bow down. Sit. It was not overly complicated but it was clear that the two creatures could communicate in some way and Potter was able to control them both with his strange magical gift.

"Certainly unique, well done Mr. Potter." They were given the signal to clear away their project and as soon as Greengrass banished the snake from the cage, Potter vanished his snake. There was a visible gasp of relief from the crowd as the two dangerous beasts were taken away and Draco heard Weasley grumbling audible about being able to finally take off his blindfold and stupid gits that felt the need to bring in enormous spiders. Draco had to work hard to laugh.

In the end, it was a close race for the top spot. Potter and Greengrass had been given credit for unique skill and- as Slughorn put it- 'truly getting into the spirit of the competition with Mr. Potter using a traditionally Slytherin skill and Miss Greengrass displaying remarkable bravery in the face of a dangerous creature.' Potter smirked at Greengrass and Draco realized that she had wanted him to call forth the acromantula _and_ the snake but Potter had been the one to insist that she do it, for that exact reason. Gryffindors probably all tramped through the forest looking for giant spiders on a regular basis but Slytherins had more sense and by seemingly being the one in charge of the acromantula- even if it had only been by using spells to contain it- she had shown bravery. Nevertheless, while they received high marks for a project that had been entertaining and fulfilled all of the requirements, they had not presented any real potential benefit to the world the way Draco and Longbottom or even Granger and Boot had done.

And since Granger and Boot's project had not had an active study but rather a theory, Longbottom and Draco walked away with the top grade and 20 points each for their Houses, along with bonus extra credit in Herbology from Sprout. There were some congratulations from members of their Houses but Draco saw that in spite of the fact that Granger had clapped politely along with everyone else she looked severely disgruntled at having come in second.

HPHPHPHP

The morning of the Quidditch match fell on Halloween, which was earlier than usual. Generally they waited until the middle of November to kick off the season but Draco had heard rumors that the Board had been receiving complaints from parents for years about holding so many matches in bad weather, claiming that it was not only dangerous for the players but a health risk for the spectators that were known to sit in the freezing rain for hours on end. While matches would still not be rescheduled for rain or snow, they were planning on getting the matches in earlier than they had done in the past. The Board also felt that a Quidditch match on the day of Halloween was a nice kick off to the festivities of the day- which this year were meant to include a tribute to the end of the First War. Draco had heard the surprise of many of the Slytherins in the Common Room that the school would acknowledge the day after so long, but Draco knew that Fudge was desperate for some good PR. He needed to remind the public that they had beaten the Dark Lord before, so they could do it again. Draco found the false bravado rather pathetic but entertaining to watch. It also aligned well for his plans for the Feast later that night.

In spite of their intentions, it seemed that fate had intended for the players to suffer regardless of the game being pushed up by a few weeks. The day was bright but unseasonably cold. Wind gusted at surprisingly strong strength while the sun blazed overhead, blinding anyone flying in the wrong direction and making it extremely hard to see the glint of gold from the Snitch without the helpful cover of clouds.

For the first time in quite a long time, Draco felt nervous before a match. It was his first as Captain and he would be facing off against Potter- who had also been named Captain this year. Draco had joined the team young, only 12, and their team had been quite good but they had never won against Gryffindor and it had escaped anyone's notice that in 4 years of competition the only match that Gryffindor had lost had been Dementors had attacked and Potter had passed out, and even then the points that the Chasers had scored had made the loss bearable enough that the team had still managed to win the Cup that year. Credit, of course, was often given to Potter but the real secret of their success had been Wood. The obsessive captain was known to have more practices than any of the other teams and the Gryffindors had not only practiced longer but had refused to cancel no matter how bad the weather. Johnson had had a run of bad luck when Potter and both Weasley twins had been 'banned for life' and yet the team had still pulled out the Tournament with the Cup.

Rumor had it that Potter did not possess the same overzealousness for leadership that both Wood and Johnson had shared, and Draco hoped that that boded well for his team but he wasn't sure if it would. Wood and Johnson had lived and breathed Quidditch and had made sure that their team had known it. From all accounts- and the Slytherins had paid very close attention to their arch rivals tactics- both of them had ruled with iron fists and pushed their team during grueling practices.

But Potter had this...natural leadership. It seemed almost innate. People couldn't help but follow him and when they did, they couldn't help but want to do their best. Quidditch might not be Potter's top priority, nor did he feel the need the drive his teammates into the ground during practices but unlike most of his friends, Draco had recently learned never to underestimate the Gryffindor.

Nevertheless, this was Slytherin's best chance to win in ages. The Gryffindor team had been largely intact since their First Year. Wood had possessed talent mixed with obsession. The Gryffindor Chasers had presented a united front the likes of which most professional teams would have killed for. The Weasley terrors, Draco was almost certain, were telepathic and worked so well together that it was impossible to block against them. And then there was Potter.

Though he would never admit it to a single soul, Draco had never forgotten the sheer brilliance with which Potter had taken to the air during their first flying lesson. Draco knew for a fact that it was indeed the first time the other boy had ever been on a broom and yet he had flown better than any other student in the school could have done. Draco had practiced and trained for three years before Hogwarts and the summer after First Year to secure his spot as Seeker and he knew most other players could say the same. It was not unusual for wealthy Purebloods to hire flying tutors for their children just to help them train and yet Potter had been offered the spot on the team after McGonagall had witnessed him executing a single, perfect, dive. And if their first lesson had been impressive, Potter had only improved over time. Potter flew a broom the way most people breathed air- effortlessly and without the need for thought or correction.

Now, however, the team was new and inexperienced. Bell was the only returning Chaser and while she was certainly good, most of her best moves had been designed to go alongside Spinnet and Johnson. The girls had been a well-oiled unit and taking her away from her preferred teammates would have an effect on her game. Girl Weasley was, admittedly, a good flier. Very good actually. But she was emotional, like her brother, and Draco felt like she could be pushed to fall apart much as Boy-Weasley had been crushed by the song he had come up with the previous year. The beaters and Dean Thomas were, from what he had been able to gather, nothing special and Boy-Weasley was an anxious player that could not recover from a bad beginning.

The fact that Potter and his best mate were at odds with one another would be Slytherin's best advantage. Draco knew Weasley well enough to know that he had no ability to compartmentalize. What upset him off the field would upset him on it and the fact that the two people who had caused his emotional turmoil would be playing in the game would only help Draco's cause. Girl-Weasley would be furious with her brother and Draco knew enough about her to know that she would take her considerable temper out on him. Potter was the wild card. He certainly had a temper but Potter was usually better at directing his anger where he wanted it to. He could only hope that Potter felt more guilty than angry at Weasley. Anger he could direct towards his game and come out with a victory but guilty would weigh him down faster than McLaggen on a broom. Speaking of the behemoth Seventh Year, Draco had heard from Pansy that he had been stirring up quite a bit of trouble for Potter in Gryffindor Tower. Complaining that Potter had used favoritism to pick his team. Personally even if Potter had picked Weasley over McLaggen based on nothing but personality, Draco would have had nothing but sympathy for him, McLaggen made just about any other Gryffindor seem like good company in comparison, but anyone that had spent even 5 minutes with Potter knew that the noble git didn't have it in him to abuse any position that he had. The fact that McLaggen had convinced anyone of his stupid complaints was fairly hilarious but also quite useful. Draco had been having Pansy stroke the idiot's ego for weeks and he only hoped it was about to pay off.

"Line up!" Draco called out to his team, not allowing any of the nervousness that he felt slip into his voice. "This is a new year! We've hit a streak of bad luck over the last few years but we have more skill, more breeding and more strategy than any team out there- especially the Gryffindors. We know how they play. They will take risks, they will be emotional, they will play by the rules." He added with a smirk.

"And we will worry about winning. Slytherin House was built upon the ideals of ambition, of reaching one's goals without question." Draco pointed to the crest above the door, ' _Finis est licitus, etiam media_ _'_ \- roughly translating to 'The End Justifies the Means'.

"Do not forget what we have planned, do not for a moment allow yourself to forget that our team comes first and everything else comes second. Are you ready?"

The team gave a resounding cheer and took off for the pitch. Right away Draco found one startlingly improvement, Lee Jordan, incredibly biased announcer who thought he was far funnier than he actually was, had graduated and therefore the position was at long last open for new blood. And their new announcer was certainly no Potter fan.

Draco wasn't sure if Potter had actually done something to Zacharias Smith to cause the other boy to actively despise him or else he simply felt that he was being unique in openly criticizing the "Chosen One" when Potter had never been more popular but Draco found his commentary fell perfectly in with his strategy. He needed to unsettle the Gryffindor team and even the opening remarks were enough to get the ball rolling.

"Potter's team is finally taking the pitch, rumors have been circulating that Potter has not spent as much time as most Quidditch Captains generally do holding practices, he's apparently been to busy with his own personal affairs but he has refused to step down and allow others the ability to run things in his absence. Let's hope that the team doesn't suffer for his poor management decisions."

"Oi! Smith why don't you report on the match and not our captain!" Girl Weasley shouted out angrily. Her face was already red with anger and Draco was delighted to see that Boy-Weasley was already losing his temper as well, if his own expression was anything to go by.

Crabbe shot a bludger at the girl while Warrington was able to make an easy score on the Keeper that was concentrated, just as Draco intended, on his sister. Weasley looked both surprised and furious at the swiftness of the goal.

"Ron, don't worry about it, you'll get the next one!" Potter shouted but there was hint of unease in his voice and Draco knew that Potter was very much aware that Weasley was going to choke.

"And Weasley, who was picked for the team over Cormac McLaggen despite a better performance at the try out lets the first goal in, Slytherin takes an early lead at 10 to 0," Smith called out over the boos of the Gryffindor crowd.

And choke Weasley did. One goal quickly became five, which devolved into 10. The Chasers weren't much better. The Slytherins were shouting the original words to 'Weasley Is Our King'- complete with added verse to include Girl Weasley's propensity to snog any warm body along with the usual verses concerning their poverty. By the second hour there were even chants in the crowd to call up McLaggen as a replacement. Pansy had started it in the Slytherin section, just as he told her to do, but McLaggen and his close posse of friends eagerly took up the chant as well.

Potter swerved in front of the Chasers setting up a pick for Girl Weasley, who shot the quaffle over to Thomas who was bodily-blocked by their own Chaser, Vaisley. Thomas threw to Bell but a well-aimed bludger unseated her and the pass was intercepted.

"Must be hard to be playing with so many men that you've been shagging! Though at this point is even possible to find a few Gryffindors you haven't been with?" Draco called out, just as his Chaser lined up a shot at the opposite goal. Predictably, Boy Weasley choked and sputtered with anger, leaving the hoop open for the easy score. Ginny wasn't much better, her face was so red at this point she looked like a tomato and she was physically shaking, she angrily knocked into Draco for his comment, which meant a foul since players were not allowed to go after the Seekers unless they had seen the Snitch.

Things got easier from there. His Beaters, Crabbe and Goyle, were careful to hit enough questionable shots to keep the fair-minded Gryffindors unsettled both physically and mentally, without actually getting ejected from the game. There were a few penalty shots but none of the Gryffindors were able to perform particularly well when outraged and Slytherin's new Keeper, Hoyt, was probably the best in the school.

Draco and their new chaser, Lexington, the first girl to make the team in over a decade, continued a steady barge of verbal barbs at both Weasleys and Potter. Lexington was a speedy flier with the build of a Seeker more than a Chaser but her agility was proving to be a valuable asset when it came to getting into the right position. However, her tongue was even more agile than her broom. She was delightfully vicious as she called out to Weasley that he should pretend that the quaffle was a galleon and that way there was no chance of him letting it fly right through the hoops.

The game was heading into its fifth hour, longer than the typical school game but though Draco was happy with their playing they had yet to come out with a commanding lead. They were still only a 130 points up and they needed to score three more times to make sure that they were guaranteed victory.

"And that's another goal for the Slytherins and Potter is really losing control of his team. While he's often given credit for being the Chosen One, we might have start wondering why he was chosen leader of this team!" Smith announced gleefully, ignoring the reprimand he received from McGonagall regarding sticking to the match and not his own unwanted opinions about her captain. There were wild cheers from the Slytherin stands a few appreciative noises from the Hufflepuff House that Smith came from but the rest roared their disapproval.

But as angry as his teammates had become, Potter seemed determined to rise above any and all comments directed his way. He too was rather red in face and Draco suspected that his knuckles were white on his broom from the sheer tension of his stance but he stuck to his usual flight pattern, only altering if he could provide support to his Chasers. And suddenly Potter went into the kind of dive that Draco could have only hoped to achieve. Vertical to the ground, Potter was traveling faster than many pros would have been flying.

But Draco's team was prepared. They had spent the last weeks planning and practicing on how to combat Potter's now signature dives. Crabbe and Goyle set up the bludgers at the right moment and swung from both sides so that they set up to collide...with Potter in between them. It was a move that Draco had made them practice all summer and then constantly during practices once school started again, a perfectly designed trap for a Seeker that was moving too fast to dodge anything. It had taken some doing- Potter moved at a rate so fast that any bludger aimed at him not only had to adjusted for speed, but more so than the average player. But Draco saw that for once his two- for lack of a better word- friends had succeeded in what they had set out to accomplish. The two bludgers flew exactly where the Beaters had hit him, the crowd gasped as one and Draco heard Weasley shout out a word that had McGonagall shouting without need of a spell at her Keeper.

And then Potter spun. Cork-screwing so that his body and broom were protected, the first bludger collided with an audible _twack_ into his side and the second with a more muted grunt into his thigh which should have stopped him right there. But it didn't.

Potter keep spinning downwards as Draco put on his own burst of speed to reach the Snitch when he realized that Potter was not to be deterred in the slightest from his goal, momentum keeping him going even after he was out of danger. Potter was reaching with his right arm and Draco had a familiar feeling of disappointed defeat as he realized that he would not reach it in time. Potters hands closed onto the golden orb inches from the ground just as he wrenched his still spinning broom up just in time to avoid a crash to the ground and Potter let go about a foot off the ground, falling hard onto the Earth, Snitch raised up above him. The cheers echoed across the pitch and Draco scowled down at his enemy.

"Oh F- er—Potter's actually caught the Snitch," Smith announced, the scornful, mocking tone that he had been using against Gryffindor the entire match absent due to his sheer surprise that Potter had managed to catch the Snitch after taking a hit like that. Smith was the Hufflepuff Seeker and Draco had beaten him easily the year before, and Draco was sure that Smith knew as well as he did that there was no way that Smith could have pulled off a move like that. "Gryffindor wins 340 to 190."

Draco landed only a few feet from Potter who was coughing roughly on the ground. Girl Weasley had reached him first and was leaning over him, offering him a hand up. He coughed again and Draco saw a bit of blood come up but he staggered to his feet.

"Merlin Harry, are you alright?" Ginny asked.

"Peachy," Potter hacked roughly. Girl Weasley was glaring at Draco, daggers in her eyes. Her whole body seemed to be vibrating with anger and for a moment she looked as though she was longing to hit him. Potter, perhaps sensing this, put his hand on her shoulder to steady himself.

Granger was hurrying down to the pitch looking worried and Hooch was trying to convince Potter to take a stretcher up the Hospital Wing while he was insisting that he was capable of walking. "This is ruining my once a year rule for the hospital wing," he complained to his teammates who seemed much calmer now that they could hear him joking and Draco wondered if that had been the point. It would not have been something he would have never thought to do.

"I think you shot that to hell the first week of school Harry," Boy-Weasley grumbled but the hostility that he been in his eyes for the past few days was replaced with concern in the face of the fact that Potter was in visible pain and was his breathing was shallow. "Gin...why don't you help him to the Hospital Wing," Weasley said quietly.

His sister looked surprised but Potter flashed a grateful smile, as though he had expected something like it all along.

Weasley turned to him, a combination of fury and misery in his expression. "You're a real git Malfoy. I really hope that someone puts you in your place one day," he said, his tone strangely flat before turning to make his way back to the castle.

HPHPHP

Draco paced nervously outside the Great Hall, trying to calm down before he made an appearance at the Feast. He was almost positive that it couldn't be traced back to him. There was no way that anyone would know that he had gone down to the kitchens and he hadn't used one of the Hogwarts elves so even if they were questioned they wouldn't be able to give him up after the fact.

He took a deep breath and entered the hall glancing up at the Head table only to see that the Headmaster was not even present and certainly not eating his meal. He felt a strange sense of relief at seeing at he wasn't present, followed quickly by a feeling of panic that his plan was not going to play out and if it didn't work out tonight, he wasn't sure if he would get another opportunity. Dumbledore was often absent for meals or even for days at a time with the growing threat of the war and the Ministry's growing reliance on the Headmaster's advice, but Draco had been sure that he would be present for the annual Halloween feast, especially with the Ministry presentation that was supposed to take place. He wondered what could have been more important than the school Feast. Was Dumbledore expected back? What should he do about the food that would be appearing on his plate in mere moments.

Despite his absence, the small ceremony was obviously still taking place. Fudge and, even more surprising, Umbridge were both present and sitting at the Head Table and both were receiving more than few dirty looks from the students. Along the sides of the Hall were about half a dozen Aurors, no doubt sent to protect the Minister.

Potter looked to have recovered from his injury and had surprisingly escaped the clutches of Pomfrey for the night and was currently sitting with Granger and both Weasleys. Whatever Boy Weasley's problem with Potter dating his sister had been he seemed to have made his peace with it for the moment, because the two of them sitting quite close on the bench and were holding hands before the food arrived for the start of the feast. Despite their win, the group looked rather subdued and all four also were glaring at Umbridge with undisguised hatred.

"Ladies and Gentlemen if I might have your attention please," Fudge called out with boisterous excitement. "The Ministry and I want to wish everyone a Happy Halloween but we also wanted to remind you all that 15 years ago today we were able to defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and end his reign of terror. I know that many of you are worried about the current situation but rest assured that we have survived before and we will survive again. The bravery of the men and women that gave their lives so that they could defend us all against the threat of an evil man and the Death Eaters that follow him will not be forgotten but I also encourage you to remember that you are not alone. The Ministry has people that are trained and with solid leadership I want to promise each and every one of you tonight that we will win the war!"

Draco exchanged a smirk with Pany as well as a more thoughtful expression from Theo Nott. Theo, Draco had come to appreciate over the years, was a boy that carefully considered all of his options before he made a move. He was not as zealous as his father when it came to the Dark Arts, but that did not prevent him from knowing quite a bit about them. Theo was currently looking over at Potter, who had his jaw clenched and staring intently not at Fudge but at Umbridge and Draco was suddenly reminded of the scars that Potter still had on the back of his right hand, his mind drifting back to Severus' words from earlier in the week. ' _When Potter wants something, he wants it obsessively... Potter will fight the most powerful wizard of our time until one of them is dead_.'

Draco didn't know a single other person that would have shown up to detention for days and even weeks on end, knowing that they were going to get their hand sliced open again and again and not say a word because they were so certain that they were in right. And despite the fact that Nott couldn't possibly know about Potter's scarred hand, he seemed to sense the same stubborn determination in the set of the Gryffindor's jaw.

"Tonight," Fudge continued, clearly oblivious to Potter's inner rage at seeing his Senior Undersecretary. "I would like to take a moment to celebrate the lives and sacrifice of two of our most distinguished war veterans. I would like to extend a toast to Lily and James Potter-"

The rest of the toast was drowned out by a loud pinging sound from the pocket of every single one of the Aurors present. Draco recognized the device, it was similar to the mirrors that he and his father used but Aurors used them to communicate in emergencies. They were cards, much like chocolate frog cards but were able to project an image of their own face onto as many cards as needed. The corresponding voice would not have been considered loud but it was repeated in unison on every card, and the Hall had suddenly fallen deathly silent. The words carried easily across the Hall.

" _All Aurors, All Aurors Code Black. Report to Godric's Hollow immediately. Muggle and Magical causalities, reports of Inferi are now being confirmed. Apparate immediately to secure area. All Aurors this is a Code Black_."

As screams echoed around the room, Draco had a feeling that he knew where the Headmaster was going to be after all and he took in the frightened faces of the younger students and suddenly he had a return of that feeling of relief he had felt when he had discovered that his plan to poison Dumbledore was not going to work out tonight, and then realized he might have an even bigger problem than he had thought in the beginning of the week.

 **A/N: Thank you all for sticking with me.**


	26. A Friend in Need- A Friend Indeed

**Chapter 26: A Friend in Need- A Friend Indeed**

 **Ron POV**

" _All Aurors, All Aurors Code Black. Report to Godric's Hollow immediately. Muggle and Magical causalities, reports of Inferi are now being confirmed. Apparate immediately to secure area. All Aurors this is a Code Black_."

There was a beat of silence following the message and then a sense of déjà vu as the students started to scream and panic. Two Aurors had hurried forward to get Fudge and Umbridge to safety while the other Aurors present immediately made for the door so that they could get to an area where it would be safe to apparate.

McGonagall was attempting to get control of the students but for the first time her stern presence did not seem to be enough to quell the panic as a ripple of fear went around the Hall and without Dumbledore, it appeared as though no one lacked the ability to instill confidence that everything would be alright. Outside of Hogsmeade, which was the only purely wizarding community in Britain, Godric's Hollow had one of the highest wizarding populations in the country and students were frightened for their parents, relatives and friends.

 _"Inferi, did they say Inferi?_

 _"Godric's Hollow that's supposed to be one of the most secure villages in England. They have the memorial..."_

 _"Can't be Inferi they're really only dangerous in massive groups, you would need loads..."_

 _"It's You-Know-Who! I'm sure be has loads!"_

"Enough!" McGonagall finally shouted out, letting out a burst of red and gold sparks from her wand that finally quieted the Hall. "At this point we do not have any further information to give you but know that all available witches and wizards will be needed and time is of the essence. In light of this recent tragedy I feel it appropriate to cancel our festivities. Prefects, you will lead the students back to their Common Rooms and food will be sent up to you. I know that you are all concerned and I promise that I will provide you with more information once it becomes available but until that point the best thing you can all do is to listen to our instructions and behave so that we are able to sort this out quickly. Will all teachers that do not hold a Head position wait for me in the next room? As I said, all available witches and wizards will be needed."

"I'm of age Professor!" Jack Calloway, a Seventh Year Gryffindor that Ron had never had much to do with before shouted out. "If you need help, let us help." Ron was sure that McGonagall was going to protest. Telling them that they couldn't help while they were still in school, the situation suddenly seemed much worse when, after a moment's consideration, she nodded her head. "Seventh Year students only, Sixth Years I know a few of you have already turned 17 and I appreciate that some of you will want to help but we also need older, mature students here to take control in our absence and provide guidance for the First and Second Years. If you are a Seventh Year that wishes to help, please join the teachers in the next room, but only if you want to help. There will be absolutely no shame, condemnation or ridicule given to those that remain here. Part of being adult is knowing our strengths, and sometimes that means leaving certain jobs to those that are more qualified. If you are scared, if you feel you are not strong enough at Defense, if you simply don't want to help we will all respect your decisions." McGonagall's eyes found Harry and she said very clearly, "all other students can do more to help _here_. Do not make things more difficult by involving yourselves where you don't belong."

Ron rather expected to see defiance in Harry's eyes. Sixth Year and 16 though he might be, there was no one that was about to argue that Harry wasn't the best Defense student in the school, if there was anyone that was qualified to help it would certainly be him. To his surprise, Harry gave their Head of House a stiff nod, his expression hard to read at the moment but McGonagall seemed satisfied that he at least wasn't about to go running off to help when he wasn't supposed to.

As McGonagall had been speaking, the teachers had already gotten up to move. Many had already moved into the room that McGonagall had indicated to wait in while others seemed to be securing the enchantments on the castle. The four Heads of Houses remained seated and were obviously waiting to escort their students back to the rooms. A few Seventh Years, mostly Gryffindors and a couple of Hufflepuffs followed but the majority stayed behind. Ron kept a watch on a few of the Slytherins that he was sure were in line to become Death Eaters, waiting to see if they had the nerve to volunteer to go under the guise of helping, but none of them moved. He wondered if it was cowardice of a fight or cunning to want to appear neutral that kept them in place.

Ron had felt that this was a rather fitting ending to a terrible day and was about to say as much to Harry when he suddenly caught sight of his friend's white face. Harry was sitting unnaturally still and there was a look in his eyes that Ron couldn't quite identify but it surprised him all the same. He had expected shock and even panic from the majority of the students but not Harry. Harry had this ability to focus in a crisis the way Ron knew only the best of the Aurors were able to do. In fact, there was a part of Ron that knew that Harry thrived in situations where a normal person would have been crying for help. He never panicked or overreacted, if anything a crisis seemed to steady Harry better than any normal day to day to scenario, which made his reaction now rather alarming. For the first time it occurred to Ron that perhaps Harry had not merely been humoring McGonagall when he had agreed to stay behind

Hermione had jumped up at the direction to have the prefects take control of the situation and was currently attempting to garner the attention of anyone under Fifth Year to follow her, much to the frustration of Justin Haverford, who was currently Head Boy and a Gryffindor and felt that _he_ should be taking primary control of the situation. Hermione though was clearly in her element, her no nonsense tone left people with little question of who they would follow.

"Harry? Are you alright?" Ginny asked, her voice soft with concern even as they were standing up to follow the group to the sound of a thunder of feet and the scraping of benches on stone. At her question Harry blinked and attempted a smile but it came out as more of a pained grimace. "Fine. I'm being an idiot. Go on, all of you, do your prefect job. I'll follow you up."

Ron frowned at Harry. He had rarely seen his friend look so vulnerable without some sort of strange magical creature or spell causing it. If he didn't know better, he would have thought that Harry was close to hyperventilating with the short, shallow breaths he was taking.

Hermione, suddenly realizing that something was bothering Harry stopped her urgent corralling of the First Years and looked over with a uncertain look. Her eyes glanced up and met Ron's with a thousand questions that he was sure that she was much more qualified to answer than he ever was.

"Harry you don't look fine," Ginny commented, sounding eerily like their mother for a moment.

Harry scowled but didn't huff impatiently as he might have done if he wasn't so obviously distracted. Instead he let out a slow breath and his breathing and, Ron could only assume, his pulse slowed.

"I'll be alright. Can we just go up to the Common Room? I'll tell you about it there." There was a rare pleading note in Harry's voice that seemed to surprise Ginny but made Hermione shoot Ron a look that clearly said that they should move quickly before Harry had any more time to obsess about whatever had him in such a strange mood.

Hermione and Ginny both moved to take up their positions. Fred and George had given Ginny quite a hard time when she had received her badge, telling her, 'of course we were surprised when Ron got it because we were convinced that Harrykins was a cert. In fact, beating out Dumbledore's favorite boy-hero for the position might actually be impressive, but you Gin? We thought that we finally had a sibling that we could be proud of.' Ginny had been uncharacteristically hurt by the twins' teasing, she was usually quite good at either throwing it off or getting so angry at them that they were scared into apologizing and moving on to other targets, but Ron suspected that Ginny had always thought of herself as the twins protégé in a way and the fact that they had seemingly dismissed her for getting the prestigious position of prefect had unsettled her. But what was more surprising was that Ginny had quickly grown to enjoy her position. After years of seeing the twins in action, she had a knack for spotting mischief faster than any other prefect and unlike when she dealt with the twins, she seemed to have no compulsion to defend troublemakers or sympathy for them when she docked points from her Housemates or assigned detentions.

Ron, as usual, kept to the rear. He had never fully understood why Dumbledore had made him a prefect when Harry or even Neville would have been more the logical choice. Harry because people would have listened to him and respected him- even last year when most of the student body had thought that he was a lunatic, they still would have followed his orders. And Neville was the boy in their year that got into the least amount of trouble. Of course, he had been delighted when he had seen the badge in his letter, Ron had always secretly wanted to be prefect. In fact probably the only person that knew how much the position truly meant to him was Harry because he had seen Ron look into the Mirror of Erised at the age of eleven. Head Boy and Quidditch Captain. Those had been his childhood dreams. To be recognized as the best. To be what his brothers had been only better. However, he had found over the past year that he didn't really like the position as much as might have thought.

While Hermione seemed to delight in her position of authority, much as Percy had once done, though thankfully she was not quite as heavy-handed about reminding them all about her position, he found the authority more of an obligation than a privilege. Hermione was constantly reminding of him of rules that he shouldn't be breaking _because_ he was a prefect rather than being able to get away with more.

Ron also found that he didn't really enjoy telling other people what to do. Perhaps after years of being friends with Hermione and Harry, Ron had gotten used to the position of follower rather than leader. Hermione had a natural bossiness to her personality. While Hermione was competitive when it came to her grades, her real joy came from being able to explain to someone else either how to do something, or tell them what they had been doing wrong. It had taken Ron quite a long time to realize that Hermione's pointed corrections came from a place of pride in herself rather than condescension towards the other person but he had eventually learned to make his peace with it (for the most part, of course).

Harry possessed a talent to make people listen whether he actually wanted them to or not, and Ron suspected it was not simply because he was the Boy-Who-Lived. While Hermione often seemed to be trying to break records of how many words she could fit into an hour, Harry could listen to a conversation for an hour before feeling the need to contribute unless he had something worth saying. However, when Harry spoke, people had a way of knowing that it was important and they had a tendency to listen. Harry spoke of things with a passion that was hard not follow. Ron still remembered the little speech that Harry had given to them back in First Year when he had been about to go after Voldemort and the Stone and Ron had very desperately wanted to run to the nearest adult and be done with the whole thing. To this day, Ron was convinced that no other person could have convinced his eleven year old self to go charging after a professor that was known to be working for Voldemort armed with about a half-dozen spells and nothing that could remotely hurt anyone, but a few words from Harry and wild horses alongside his own mother couldn't have dragged him away from helping. And if wild horses were considered strong, Ron considered them nothing on his mother.

Harry and Hermione were the type to lead people- Hermione by choice and Harry because even if he didn't necessarily like being in charge, Harry hated following others more and Harry would always do what needed to be done because he usually had a better way than the person that was supposed to be in charge. Ron felt that being made a prefect was designed to teach you to be a leader, but the only thing Ron had seemed to learn was that he was much happier being the one on the sidelines. Cracking a few jokes, responsible only for himself and his own decisions. Dumbledore had made quite a mistake in naming in prefect, of that Ron was quite certain.

However, one advantage to being one of the few prefects not fighting for control over leading the students, was that it freed him up to walk up with Harry, who was still looking pale and distracted if not as dazed as he had been.

"How's your head?" Ron asked, tapping his own forehead where Harry's scar was located on his own so as not to draw attention to his question from the crowd.

Harry shook his head, "I feel fine. It's..." Harry glanced around and did not seem surprised to find that several people listening intently to them.

"What do you think happened, Harry?" Colin Creevey asked. "Did you find out anything from the Ministry?"

"He's been with us the whole time, Creevey!" Ron answered, irritated by the question.

"I have no idea Colin," Harry answered wearily. "But attacking Godric's Hollow on Halloween isn't exactly original for Voldemort though is it?" he added with a sharp edge to his tone that caught Ron's attention and made him feel like an idiot. Of course. Godric's Hollow on Halloween.

There was a bit of confusion when they reached the tower as both Hermione and Haverford were attempting to take a head count and kept messing one another up with their counts and the Ginny and her partner, Joseph Brock, were practically tripping over one another to keep people in proper lines around the room. Ron rolled his eyes at Harry at the scene and was rewarded with a twinge of his lips. "Sure you shouldn't be handing out name badges or something?" Harry asked with a raised eyebrow.

"No I figure someone should free themselves up in case we have sabotage the Slytherins or something."

This got a genuine chuckle from Harry. After a few more confused minutes the crowds broke up and Hermione and Ginny came and found Harry and Ron, who had acted quickly to snag the most comfortable armchairs while the rest of the House had been distracted between getting their names down or else trying to quiz one another on what they thought had happened even though no had any real information.

"That was ridiculous," Hermione huffed angrily. "And thanks for helping Ron. Sorry your prefect duties are such a bother."

"Right, I probably should have done the third head count and shouted out the numbers just to make sure that we were properly buggered on the whole thing," Ron muttered to Harry but loud enough so that both girls heard him and glared at him for his attitude.

"Looks like everything is under control now. No one wandered off or anything so it all worked out," Harry said quickly, diffusing the retort Ron knew Hermione was likely to make. Ron felt that he had an interesting dynamic with his two closest friends. There was a strong part of him that wanted to get Hermione alone and become closer than they had ever been together. He had been attracted to Hermione for over a year now, he found her beautiful, shockingly intelligent and there was no one that was more loyal to her friends. He was fairly certain that she was someone that he could fall completely in love with. And he was just him. He knew perfectly well that he wasn't good enough for her but there were a few times when he thought perhaps she didn't seem to mind. That she wanted him too.

But there was also a nagging voice in his head that said that the only reason he and Hermione even had a functional friendship at all was because Harry was there to mediate between them. While Harry's calming influence seemed to keep their friendship intact well enough, Ron was not daft enough to believe that it would be the same way if they were to get into a real relationship. It was just part of the many complicated reasons he had given himself for never confessing to Hermione how he felt about her.

"Are you going to tell us what upset you so much Harry?" Ginny asked with blunt directness.

Harry grimaced and Ron smirked at him because although Ginny might take it mean that he was reluctant to talk- and he was- Ron knew that Harry was actually kicking himself for breaking up the perfect distraction by breaking up his bickering with Hermione.

Harry let out a sigh and rubbed his eyes under his glasses, when he looked up he looked more embarrassed than stressed at the moment. "I told you, I'm being a bit of an idiot-"

"Then you should tell us so that we can tell you how wrong you are," Ginny answered, brow raised slightly.

Harry bobbed his head in something resembling a nod as he said, "the message said that Voldemort was using Inferi. My parents are buried in Godric's Hollow and it can't be a coincidence that he would go there. Especially on Halloween of all nights."

Ginny looked a bit stunned but Hermione frowned, "but... well Harry I'm sorry but there isn't a very tactful way to put this... your parents have been dead for 15 years. They're bodies... well Inferi need to be fairly intact..."

Harry nodded his understanding and Hermione let out a small sigh of relief at not having to be blunt about the fact that after 15 years Harry's parents would hardly be ideal corpses to attack anyone. Except that as smart as Hermione was, there still parts of the magical world that she inherently didn't understand being raised by muggles.

"Er... well actually," Ginny corrected awkwardly, she shot a glance over at Ron who nodded, Harry would want to know even if it upset him. If he found out later that they had tried to protect him he would furious. "I suppose it must be different in the muggle world but in wizarding funerals, most of them at least, its traditional to put a preservation spell on the body. They don't last forever but... well considering that wizards live a lot longer than muggles I suppose it's a way of ensuring that when you visit your family's graves their still... intact. It takes decades for a body to decompose so if Harry's right and You-Know-Who did go there to use Harry's parents... well its possible," she finished with an apologetic look at Harry, who only nodded tightly and squeezed her hand as though to say that he didn't blame her for telling him bad news.

Hermione looked predictably startled at having been corrected, something that never failed to put her on edge but didn't say anything else for the moment. They were all quiet, unsure what to say before Harry spoke, this time sounding impatient, "which is rather stupid thing to worry about considering that Voldemort is attacking people that are alive. It shouldn't... I mean... they're dead. They've always been dead, to me at least, so it shouldn't matter but..."

"But it does, and of course it should matter Harry!" Ginny said fiercely.

"Anyone would be upset Harry," Hermione seconded, her tone more consoling than determined as Ginny's was.

Harry nodded but his expression was still grim and self-deprecating, "which is exactly what Voldemort wants. It's last year with the Department of Mysteries all over again. He used Sirius because he knew that once I knew he was in danger I wouldn't be able to think it through before going after him. Even when Hermione knew it was trap I still couldn't help myself and now..."

"And now, even if you're upset you know what he's trying to do and it's not working," Ginny told him with a look of conviction that Ron had never seen from his younger sister before. "You didn't fight McGonagall about going to Godric's Hollow, even after she let students go. You haven't fallen for his trap this time."

"Ginny's right, Harry. You can't help how you feel and honestly I don't think that you should. If you suddenly didn't care about your parents, you're no better than Voldemort, who you told us killed his own father without a second thought. You're better than him because you care about people Harry. But you can control how you act, and that's what you're doing. You're beating Voldemort right now, even if it must be hard just sitting here with us."

Ginny looked briefly startled at the revelation that Voldemort had killed his own father and Ron realized that Harry wouldn't have gotten the chance to tell her anything that he knew about the war. He wondered how much of that was going to change now that they were officially together. Ron knew that Dumbledore had warned Harry only to share private information with the two of them, and he and Hermione had sworn Harry their secrecy, but he wasn't sure if Harry was planning on telling more people the things that he learned in his 'lessons' with the Headmaster. But Harry didn't appear to register that Ginny had not known this information because he was still concentrated on the last part of Hermione's statement.

Harry flashed her a guilty look, "not as hard as you think actually," he muttered with a familiar tone of guilt. "If I'm right and he did use my parents... I don't know if I could fight them, light their bodies on fire or destroy them. It's...easier staying here. Even though people are in danger..." Harry swallowed as he admitted painfully, "we don't know anyone in Godric's Hollow... so as it turns out, I'm just as bad as Voldemort because it's easy to go after and protect people that you know, but if I actually cared about doing the right thing than it wouldn't matter who they are."

Ginny and Hermione looked momentarily nonplussed, unsure what to say to Harry. But Ron felt that someone should point out the obvious to Harry. "Harry did you see that only about 12 Seventh Years went to help? McGonagall offered them the chance, and less than a fourth of them wanted to go, do you think that they're all cowards?"

Harry blinked but shook his head. "No, you don't because no one really expects us to go. Harry I know..." he glanced at Ginny who had not been told the prophesy and he didn't want to reveal that information now, "I know why you think it's your job to go up against You- against V-Voldemort but it was never supposed to be your job alone. You would never ask another person to do what you just said, and fight the Inferi of their _dead parents_. You wouldn't even think to ask so the fact you think you're expected to do what no else should have to, is stupid. There are times to second guess yourself and feel like you could have done more- but this isn't it Harry. I suggest you get the bloody hell over yourself mate."

Harry flashed him a grateful smile before doubling over in pain with a grunt, his hands flying to his forehead. "Harry!" Hermione yelped, clearly alarmed. It had been awhile since Harry had felt Voldemort affect him during the day. In fact, according to Harry even the twinges of pain and emotion that he felt through the previous year had gone away, it was only during his dreams that he was affected and Ron had the impression it was because Voldemort had lost control. Now, however, Ron suspected that he had something that he wanted to show Harry, and Ron desperately hoped it wasn't what he thought it was.

"I-I'm alright," Harry answered shakily, before vomiting somewhat spectacularly over the side of the chair. To Ginny's credit, considering she had been right next to him and was not completely spared the mess on her shoes and robes, she was not revolted at all, she calmed vanished the sick and conjured a cloth that she then wet with her wand. "Push him out Harry. You can do it." Harry's eyes looked glassy and unfocused but he shut them in concentration at her words, his fists clenched as he used every ounce of willpower he had to fight against the darkest wizard in the world.

Ron watched as his sister took care of her ailing new-boyfriend and thought perhaps the two of them might be better suited together than he had first thought. Ron knew that both Ginny and Hermione had been upset with how he had handled the situation, Hermione seemingly even more upset than Ginny for some strange reason, but he did not regret anything that he had said. He might have been harsh but he had not been lying when he had said that he thought the two of them getting together was going to be a disaster in the making.

Ginny had always worshipped Harry. He remembered her claiming that she was going to marry him when she had been five years- he should remember, after all he was the one that had been forced to have play 'Harry Potter' in her fake weddings. In her First and Second Year Ginny, who had seemingly never stopped talking as a kid, hadn't even been able to speak around him. Ron knew Harry well enough to know that he was not intentionally messing his sister around, nor was he trying to take advantage of her feelings for him. There had been plenty of girls that had been throwing themselves at Harry all year- some more aggressively than others when one took into consideration that Romilda Vane and taken to waiting outside their dormitory every morning during the first week of school so that she could be the first person he saw each day. But Harry had never shown any interest in people that only wanted him for his name. Whatever it was that attracted Harry to Ginny, Ron was fairly confident it was not the fact that Ginny saw him as a hero.

The problem was, as Ron knew full well, Harry had no real conception of what the name 'Harry Potter' actually meant to most people. To him, his fame was an inconvenient part of his life that he would rather not have to deal with and anyone that looked up to him for it was simply an idiot that couldn't think for themselves. But unlike Harry, Ron had grown up hearing about the 'miraculous Boy-Who-Lived'. As a child that grew up in the early years following an eleven year war in which his own mother had lost two brothers and countless others as well, Ron had learned a good amount of fear for the man that had caused such destruction. In fact, even ten years later when they had started school, Ron had seen how quickly the muggleborns had learned to fear a man that they had never even heard of before. While Dean had struggled to write with a quill and Hermione had often complained about wizard's lack of technology (she had often lamented about how much easier using something called a computer would be to study) neither one ever seemed to question that they should fear You-Know-Who.

From the way it had been described to Ron as a child, it appeared as though most of the Wizarding World had lost all hope. Formerly close friends were suspicious of one another, there was constant fear that you were next and there was the unfortunate fact that they were _losing_. Ron's parents had not been a part of the Order the first time around, though he had later learned that his two uncles had been, but it must have seemed as though all hope was lost.

And then it had all ended so suddenly, and so completely unexpectedly, and it had been nothing short of miraculous. Ron had grown up hearing about the amazing powers and abilities of Harry Potter, so that as kid 'Harry Potter had seemed more like a legend than a real person. But meeting him on the train had been a nearly surreal experience. The idea of the savior of the Wizarding World being a scrawny kid that was more excited about the prospect of getting away from his terrible muggle relatives than he was about being famous as a reason for coming to Hogwarts was not what he had expected. A boy that was just as excited to hear about Ron's family as Ron had been to learn about him. Harry had just been... Harry and ever since that first train ride he had never considered him anything different. While Ron had often felt jealous of his fame, his money and even- at times- Harry's raw power, he had never doubted that Harry was as normal as he was.

He also knew that Harry was a good person and so Ron had no doubts that Harry would ever try to hurt his sister, but he also knew that the two of them had very different ideas of what to expect from one another. No matter how much Ginny had matured, how many times she had seen him at the Burrow, Ron knew that there was a part of Ginny still saw 'Harry Potter the Hero' rather than Harry-I-Didn't-Realize-We-Had-A-Test-Today-Potter. Harry was a normal guy and he worried that sooner or later that was finally going to hit Ginny and she wouldn't be able to accept it. And he knew that Harry believed that Ginny only saw him without any title at all. Harry might be best friend, but he had promised a long time ago that he would do everything in his power to look after his little sister and he had already failed once. He was determined not to fail again.

He had been adamantly against the two of them getting together, believing that at least Ginny if not both of them would wind up getting hurt and was not about to budge on that opinion. However, after the events of the Quidditch match, seeing Harry hurt on the ground and Ginny standing over him, and Ron feeling like the world's biggest loser after he had nearly cost them the game- he didn't have it him to fight them on it. And as he watched Ginny peer at Harry with concern in her eyes, but no fear or resentment, he wondered if maybe he hadn't underestimated her.

There of course had also been the fact that Ron had furious with Ginny for the letters that she had written to their parents. It was perhaps a good thing that Hermione had spoken to Ginny about his anger before the two of them had had a chance to speak because at least Ginny had known what he had been upset about before he had confronted her. Ginny had claimed that she had not meant for their parents to take it that way, and she had only been a frustrated with him. 'Don't act as though you've never put down that I've bothered you!' she had retorted angrily, but truthfully Ron never had. He didn't usually put down his problems in his letters to his parents, preferring instead to write about good things and avoid his mother's worry.

In the end, despite his frustration over the situation he realized that staying mad at Ginny for writing a few letters to his parents was not the real issue. It was his parents' problem and though he was still upset with them- furious really- for the way they had gone about it, he had another conversation with Hermione after both of them had calmed down and she had a way of making him think of things differently than he was used. She had a way of forcing a perspective that no else was capable of giving him and after talking to her he could at least see that they had been trying to help. Hermione had suggested that he talk to Bill's friend Sarah and prove that he wasn't ill but Ron felt that was a step too far. Even if he could see why his parents wanted to look out for him, he still felt that their concern was unwarranted and the way they had ambushed hurtful. It had taken two days for him to calm down completely Harry had seemed to have an almost eerie sixth sense as to when he had reached that point because it was nearly at that exact moment that Harry had blindsided him with the confession that he had and his little sister were together.

" _Er... hey Ron?" Harry asked sounding strangely uncertain._

" _Yeah?" Ron answered blankly. Over the years he had grown rather used to Harry coming to him with all sorts of strange and unusual problems. Harry was, after all, the only person with a cursed scar with a connection to an evil mass murderer that was obsessed with killing him. The only person to be able to speak to snakes and hear them in the walls of the school. The only person with a supposed different mass murderer after them that no one had bothered to tell him was actually his godfather. Being Harry Potter's best friend had prepared Ron for just about any strange or potentially upsetting occurrence which was why the way Harry was nervously shuffling from side to side was bordering on alarming._

" _Is it... did you have another vision or something?"_

 _Harry winced as though upset that he had made that conclusion but shook his head quickly. "No, no it's nothing like that. No one's hurt or dying."_

" _Well that makes a pleasant surprise," Ron commented drily. "Your news is becoming boring Harry."_

 _Harry flashed him a grin but there was still nervousness in the gesture. "Er... well hopefully you'll find this boring. It's... well the thing is..." Harry gestured in a sort of absentminded way, seemingly unsure of what to say._

" _Harry, it's me, not Hermione. Just spit it out already, yeah?"_

" _Ginny and I are going out."_

 _Ron froze, his mind going blank for a moment as he struggled to come up with something to say. Harry and Ginny? When in the bloody hell how that happened?_

" _You and my sister. Together?"  
_

" _And I know that you're upset with her, which is between the two of you," he said quickly as though Ron had challenged him on it, "but er... well you're her brother and my best mate and I told her that I needed to talk to you before... well before it was official or whatever you want to call it."_

" _So you're not together? Not 'officially'."_

 _Harry grimaced but Ron's tone seemed to harden his resolve a bit. Ron distantly registered the absurdity in the fact that Harry would be nervous about starting a fight, only to grow more composed when his fears were realized. Harry had always done better in an actual crisis than in waiting for it to come. But he pushed the observation aside for the moment, anger replacing shock. Anger that Harry would put him in this position. "Not officially yet, but we want to be. Look...Ron, I really like Ginny. I wouldn't be talking to you about her if I didn't, but I told her that I'm best mate first. I wanted to make sure you're alright with this."_

" _And if I'm not? If I'm not alright with the two of you dating, would you actually end it or is you asking me if I'm alright with it just a nicer way of telling me that I_ should _be alright with it."_

 _Harry blinked rapidly a few times. "Now I know you're spending too much time with Hermione," he said with a slight grin. Ron's expression loosened slightly but he refused to actually laugh or give himself away just yet. Though in truth Ron wasn't sure if that was more Hermione's influence or Ernie's, who had a way of seeing through what a person meant to say. Ron only lifted an eyebrow, daring Harry to answer._

" _It matters," Harry said quietly, but didn't say any more._

 _Ron ground his teeth, his temper flaring up and the words tumbled out of his mouth before he could properly filter his response. "Well I'm not alright with it! She's my sister Harry. And you're... you're you! The two of you are going to be a complete disaster Harry, you must know that! Everything around you is one giant disaster and you actually want to drag my sister into it? Damn it Harry, why would I be alright with that?"_

 _Ron felt it would have been a lot easier if Harry had yelled or threw something at him. If he had told Ron that he was a git and that stormed out of the room. Even if he had cursed him and said that he was going to be with her anyway, it would have been a better response than he got._

 _Harry flinched and pain flashed across his eyes, his jaw dropped slightly and for a moment he looked utterly stunned. "Right." He pressed his lips together. "She's your sister mate, I told her that you had to be alright with it."_

" _So now I'm the bad guy? Now Ginny gets to write home and complain to mum and dad about how I'm in 'one of my moods' and they all think that I'm sick or something?" He was angry. As the words came out of his mouth he knew that he was being unfair but he had been unprepared for Harry's reaction. He could have handled an argument but Harry's calm acceptance had thrown him._

" _I don't know what Ginny's going to write home, but it won't be that the two of us are together," Harry answered, tone harsher now as his resolve strengthened alongside his obvious disappointment._

 _Ron was trying to rally counter-arguments, thinking of something that he could say to push Harry into arguing with him so that he didn't have to feel like such a git for saying those terrible things. It was unforgivable and he knew it but if Harry would just say something awful back then everything might be alright._

 _But Ron never got to provoke the argument he so desperately wanted at that point. They were interrupted by door to the dorm opening and Neville, Dean and Seamus all coming in. "Er... everything alright?" Dean asked uncertainly._

" _fine," Harry answered stiffly. "Hermione is going to help me with the Potion's Essay so I should go."_

 _After Harry's exit the others had been predictably curious, it was rare that the two of them stormed off from one another. Ron had briefly explained that Harry had made a move on Ginny- it was the only way he could explain his anger and not sound crazy even if it meant that he was throwing Harry in front of it a bit- and the others were sympathetic but Seamus was unsurprised. 'Well the two of them do seem to get along rather well. About time Harry found someone.' Not exactly what Ron wanted to hear._

Ginny had given him a scathing glare the next day but Harry had been strangely neutral. No anger. No cold shoulder. Harry spoke to him, did his homework and reminded him about Quidditch practice as though nothing had happened. In fact if Ron didn't know better he wouldn't have thought that anything had happened at all. Though that was not true for everyone. The news that Ron had seemingly forbidden his best friend from dating his sister had made its way quickly around the Tower. From all accounts, Ginny had been livid when Harry had broken the news to her. Ron didn't know what Harry had said, but it was clear who Ginny blamed for her failed relationship.

Where Harry seemed determined to pretend that nothing had happened, Ginny had made it her clear that she was furious with him for interfering in her life. Ron did not regret it, Ginny had a tendency to get herself into situations that were over her head because she hated the feeling of being left behind. He could understand it, he knew very well what it felt like be insecure about your place in the large Weasley family but while Ron dealt with his feelings with petty jealousy and bouts of seemingly irrational anger, Ginny set herself in potentially dangerous situations merely to prove herself capable. When she had been eight their dad had caught her stuck in a tree after crashed her broom in the higher branches and hadn't been able to get down. The worst part was that she had been stuck up there for nearly an entire day because she had snuck out to go flying and no one had even known that she would be in danger. Ginny hated the feeling of being told she 'couldn't' do something and she had made her displeasure known to him.

Now that Ron had essentially given his permission for the two of them be together, he knew that he and Harry would need to talk but after that they would be fine. Ginny, on the other, might stay mad at him for months. Ginny had no end to the grudges that she could hold and Ron did relish having to endure her temper over the next few weeks.

HPHPHP

"Harry, Harry look at me," Ginny said urgently after several minutes but Harry gave no indication that he could hear her. His brow was sweaty, his eyes closed with rapid movement behind the lids. His limbs were taut and would spasm at random as though he were experiencing a fit of some kind.

"Is this normal? Does this happen every time he has a vision?" Ginny asked, again she was concerned but not panicked and Ron's respect for his sister went up a notch. Hermione glanced at Ron, her expression inquiring. Though Hermione had certainly seen Harry's scar pain him and had been present in the Great Hall during the OWLs when he had had the vision of Sirius, it was Ron that usually saw Harry at their worst by virtue of sharing a dorm with him.

Ron took a breath and remembered the last time he had seen Harry in his bed. He nodded unsurely. "It's... this one is bad but I think he should be alright." But he wasn't. Usually Harry pulled himself out- or perhaps was simply released- from the visions after a few minutes but as the minute hand of the clock ticked by, Harry did not seem to be improving. They had garnered a small crowd of people that were anxious to see what was going on but Hermione told them all that Harry was feeling ill and needed space and if they continued to pester him she would start handing out detentions.

"You're brilliant Hermione," Ron told her with admiration as she glared down a pair of Fourth Years that were insisting that Hermione didn't have the authority of assigning detentions for merely looking at people and Hermione was asking them if they really wanted to test that theory with McGonagall. The truth was, prefects were allowed to assign any punishments they felt necessary as long as it was within their own Houses. Umbridge had attempted to change that with her Inquisitorial Squad, which consisted of only her favorite (mostly Slytherin) students who had been entitled to take points from any House. If a student felt that a prefect was being unfair or targeting someone unnecessarily they could appeal to their Head of House for review but unless there was evidence that a prefect was abusing their powers, McGonagall sided with the prefects and backed up whatever punishment they had felt were deserved at the time. In some ways Ron was considered a favorite prefect among the students because he was rarely known to give out punishments and though he enjoyed the fact that his classmates liked him, he often felt admiration for the way Hermione seemingly didn't care at all what others thought of her as long as she did what she felt was right.

"He needs to go to the Hospital Wing, Ron," Hermione said, her voice low even though Ron had already put Harry's _muffliato_ spell around them just in case Harry were to shout out something that was better kept under wraps. "He's- He's trapped or something."

"Harry always thought that Madame Pomfrey wouldn't be able to help him with this," Ron answered with an unsure shrug.

"Better to find that out from her," Ginny countered, "instead of watching him suffer."

"We're not supposed to leave," Ron pointed out.

Ginny rolled her eyes impatiently, "do you forget all the time that you're a prefect? The whole point is that we're supposed to be mature enough to know when leaving during an emergency is necessary, and I would say this is pretty damn necessary."

Hermione frowned at Ginny's choice of words but wisely decided against saying anything for the moment, "Ginny's right, let McGonagall yell at us later, we need to get Harry to the Hospital Wing now." It were these words more than anything that cemented all of their resolve. Anything worth Hermione possibly incurring the wrath of her favorite professor was a desperate situation indeed.

There was some debate over who should be going. All three of them were prefects and were therefore expected to oversee things in the Common Room, there was no logical reason why three of them needed to escort one person to the Hospital Wing other than the fact that it was Harry and each of them cared more about him than the rest of the people. In the end, they couldn't decide who was staying behind and Haverford was rather anxious to get rid of Hermione who was the really the only prefect that challenged his absolute authority. Fred and George had often complained that one of the many problems with the Prefect System was that you were concentrating power among all of the type-A people in the House and that power struggles were inevitable. Though for the most part the scheduling of patrols allowed for each of the prefects to spread out their authority evenly, crises like this certainly showed the pitfalls of several people trying to take charge at once. Idly, Ron wondered what went on in the Slytherin Common Room where everyone was known for ambition. If ambition was a trait of their average student, Ron shuddered to imagine the fights that must break out among their prefects.

It was no easy thing to move Harry to the hospital wing. He didn't appear to be completely unconscious but was not aware of anything around him either. Every few moments he would jerk or cry out something unintelligible and it was immediately obvious that they wouldn't be able to get him to walk down. Luckily they had Hermione with them, they had just started working on conjuring large items and once again Hermione was more advanced than the rest of them. They dragged Harry out of the portrait hole to avoid as many questions as possible and then she was able to conjure a stretcher that Ron directed down to the hospital ward with Hermione trailing behind just in case the stretcher started to fade out of existence as imperfect conjurations had a tendency to do.

However, once they entered the ward they were met with a sight that they weren't prepared for. Roughly half a dozen students, all Hufflepuffs, in the process of being violently ill were taking up the majority of the wing and Pomfrey was running around with cool efficiency ensuring that they all received the proper potions. Snape had also entered the wing shortly behind their group and it was clear that he had been called in for assistance.

Ron caught sight of Ernie helping a pale and sweaty Hannah Abbot by vanishing the sick from a bedpan and helping her to lie down. As he noticed the four Gryffindors, he made his way over after seeing that his friend was going to be alright for the moment. Hermione and Ginny were settling Harry into a bed on the far side of the wing while Ron caught up with Ernie.

"What's going on?" he asked.

Ernie's face was a grim but there was an undercurrent of anger that surprised Ron. "We're not sure yet but Pomfrey thinks it might be poison."

"What?" Ron asked in surprise. "What the bloody hell?"

Ernie nodded his agreement, his eyes on his clearly ill Housemates. "We were eating the food sent down to our Common Room and everything was fine at first but after about a half hour the five of them started getting really ill. First they felt dizzy, then they started to retch and sick up, by the time Melina, Adam and I were able to get them all down here, they were like this."

"And Pomfrey thinks its poison?" Ron asked in surprise, he couldn't imagine who would be going after Hufflepuff House.

Ernie nodded, his eyes hard. "I thought it might have just been a strange flu or something but when we got down here and Pomfrey started to run diagnostics she couldn't find any other cause. That's when she called down Snape since he's most likely to know about poisons," Ernie tilted his head in a way that Ron might have done to Harry, as a means of implying that Snape would know about poisons because he had undoubtedly used them before and Ron nodded with a ghost of a grin.

"Is Potter alright?" Ernie asked, brow creased. "He doesn't look like he has what they have but well I'll be honest if someone were going to poison someone..." Ernie winced apologetically but Ron couldn't deny the truth in the statement. There was seemingly no pattern to the students other than the fact that that they were Hufflepuffs. Abbot was obviously in their year and a Pureblood but he also caught sight of a muggleborn Second Year and a Half-Blood Third Year. The other two Ron wasn't sure about but to the best of his knowledge none of them had anything particularly in common. Ernie glanced up at Ron with curiosity and Ron felt a twinge of smugness that Ernie's look showed a kind of faith that Ron would know what was going on when no one else did. It was the looks people usually directed at Harry in strange situations or Hermione for just about everything.

Ron glanced around but no one was currently listening to the two of them. Everyone was either too ill or too concerned for their friends to worry very much about what anyone else was doing. "Listen don't spread this around because Harry doesn't like a lot of people to know-"

Ernie's eyes widened and Ron blushed, knowing what Ernie meant. Ron had been more than ambivalent about any potential relationship between the two of them. The truth was, he had a good time with Ernie. Things had gone rather well at Hogsmeade. They had had quite a lot of fun going into the various shops, grabbing a drink together at the Hogs Head instead of the Three Broomsticks because Ernie knew that they could get a bit of Firewhiskey. Ron couldn't help but think it was something Hermione never would have done and then felt rather guilty for being glad that he was with someone that a bit easier on the rules.

But most of all Ron liked the fact that since the first time that Ernie had kissed him, he had made it more than clear how he felt about Ron. Ron had never had anyone show interest in him before, never been able to attract special attention when he had always been standing next to someone more exciting. Whether it was his brothers or Ginny or even Hermione but especially Harry, Ron tended to get overshadowed by the company that he kept. Ernie was the first person to find _Ron_ interesting and attractive and Ron couldn't deny that the feeling of being attractive, was attractive. But a part of Ron- that sounded uncannily like Hermione- acknowledged that he might like that more than he actually liked Ernie. And then he felt stupid because it shouldn't be so hard to work out whether you liked someone or not.

"Harry will understand why I would tell you," Ron explained with a shy smile that made Ernie grin in spite of the fact that his friends were ill. "You've heard that Harry's scar hurts sometimes?"

Ernie looked rather surprised but nodded, "I kinda thought that was just _Prophet_ rubbish though."

Ron shook his head. "Well, I mean the part about him being dangerous and disturbed obviously is, but the scar comes from the Killing Curse. You know no one has ever survived it before but somehow it made like this...connection to You-to V-Voldemort."

Ernie shivered at the name but looked rather impressed that Ron had said it. "Damn," he said as soon as he seemed to realize the full implications of that kind of connection. Ron grimaced, "yeah. And that's not all, there are times when Harry gets these... visions of what Voldemort is doing, who he's torturing. It sounds really useful," Ron acknowledged at Ernie's excited look, "but it's not really something he can control and..." he gestured to Harry who had just arched off the bed in pain, "well you can see what it does to him."

"Fuck." Ernie whispered. "This happens all the time?"

Ron shrugged, "Obviously not all the time, but it happens. It seems worse now though. I think...I think Voldemort is trying to show him what happening in Godric's Hollow," he said quietly.

"Wow I figured hearing about what happened tonight was going to be rough for him but I never counted on something like this. That's really sick."

Ron gave him a surprised look, and Ernie gave a hollow laugh, "I'm not a complete idiot. I might not be tracking down evil in the castle every year but even I know that when You-Know-Who attacks Godric's Hollow on Halloween it has to be personal."

Ron gave him a wry smile before he noticed that Snape had zeroed in on Harry's bed. "I better go, I want to hear about this. I- I'll see you later?" Ernie gave his shoulder a subtle squeeze and his voice quiet when he answered. "I think you know the answer to that. Ron..." and suddenly the confident prefect that had handled their every encounter looked uncertain, "you know how I feel about you and I know that you need time but I just want to make it clear that its not all or nothing with me. We can be friends... but I would kind of like to know that's all we're going to be sooner rather than later."

"I-"

Ernie rolled his eyes, and he chuckled as he said, "come off it prat, I'm not saying right this bloody minute! I'm just saying... soon."

Ron nodded his posture relaxing as he smiled at Ernie to let him know that he understood. The Hufflepuff had been more than understanding when it came to letting Ron sort out his own confused feelings but no one could wait forever.

"Go on but let me know how Potter ends up. Don't worry, I reckon he's a right tough bastard after everything he's been through and once he hears that there's a potential murder mystery in the mix he'll be chomping at the bit to get at I'm sure."

Ron tilted his head to acknowledge of the comment, smirking slightly, before making his way over to Hermione's side. She gave him a slightly inquiring look but Ron merely muttered, "I'll let you know what happened to the Hufflepuffs later." He had carefully avoided discussing Ernie with Hermione and was not about to stop that pattern now. If Ron's feelings for a relationship with another bloke were complicated, adding his feelings about Hermione into the mix were downright overwhelming.

Luckily all three of them were distracted enough as it was. Hermione had apparently explained the situation to Snape because he was studying Harry with a rather academic look on his face. After a moment, Snape leaned over Harry and peered directly into his eyes, before leaning back and gathering up a couple of potions that he injected into his arm. Harry stilled and his eyes fluttered open but he still didn't appear to really acknowledge anything around him.

"I believe that the potions should do what Occulumency failed to and push the foreign presence from his mind. How long did you say he was in this state?" he asked Hermione, his tone brisk and professional.

"I would say at least a half hour sir," she answered nervously. Snape's expression didn't change but his eyes seemed to darken further and Ron felt that familiar shock of coldness at having to deal with the unpleasant man. Ron gave Harry credit for all of the times he had been forced to deal with the man in a one on one situation, Ron did not think he would have been able to do it. "When he wakes up he may be disoriented. Don't force him out of it, let him come back on his own. If he remains confused for more than an hour after he initially wakes up, inform Madame Pomfrey or myself, understood?"

"Yes sir," the three of them chorused and Ron noted that Snape's eyes lingered on Ginny for a moment longer, perhaps wondering why she was there when usually it would have been just been he and Hermione bringing Harry down. The man said nothing though and moved on to the next cot to deal with the other patients.

They settled in, not for the first time, to wait for Harry to come back to consciousness. In the meantime the three of them had a front-row seat to the mystery that was the Hufflepuffs' plight and a part of Ron lamented that Harry was missing out on his favorite activity at Hogwarts- solving a mystery that none of the professors seemed to understand.

There was shouting out in the corridor and Harry stirred from his stupor for the first time in over an hour. He was still unusually pale and his scar stood out vividly on his forehead but he moved to get up. Ginny made a protesting noise, as though she was going to suggest that he stay seated but he brushed her concern aside with a gentle hold on her forearm. However, he didn't get up right away instead he nodded at the hallway. "What's going on out there?" His voice was hoarse and there was slight thread of pain in it but it was steady and certainly coherent.

Ginny shook her head and looked slightly bewildered by Harry's sudden and complete return to consciousness. "I don't think it matters right now Harry, you should be resting."

Harry glanced around the room, taking in the sight of all occupied beds, "these aren't people from the battle," he said slowly. "What else happened?"

Hermione made a small exasperated noise at Harry's inability to stay out of things, even when he had been semi-conscious for the better part of two hours. "Harry I really think that you should get some sleep! You- you were really ill."

Harry's expression changed and his eyes looked rather haunted and...old, making Ron wonder exactly what Harry had seen while in the grips of whatever Voldemort had done to him. "Trust me Hermione, if you knew what was making me ill, you wouldn't want to sleep either. You want to make me feel better, tell me what's going on."

Ron bit back a laugh because Harry had a way of getting his way that no one else could have gotten away with. Hermione looked conflicted for a moment but Ginny gave in. "Someone poisoned the Hufflepuffs' food."

Harry's eyes widened, "sorry?"

Ron nodded, his expression grim, remembering Ernie's troubled face. "Luckily no one seemed to eat enough to do anything other than make them sick but we heard Pomfrey telling Snape that if one person had eaten it all then it would have killed them. Thing is, no one can figure out why any of them were poisoned in the first place."

Harry's eyebrows rose but rather than his surprise, he seemed to have reached some startling conclusion that no doubt only Harry could have come up with. Ron rolled his eyes, Hermione was brilliant but Harry could be utterly mad sometimes with the things he came up- mad because they were strangely accurate even when they had no reason to be.

But whatever he was about to say was interrupted by more shouting in the corridor. Harry craned his neck over to see and before Ginny or Hermione could think to stop him he had pulled himself away from them and opened the ward doors, revealing none other than the Minister and a man that Ron didn't recognize but seemed rather imposing. Harry, however, reacted with surprise but no confusion as to the man's identity.

"Raymond? I didn't expect to see you here."

"Because this is the last place someone like _him_ should be," tittered the girlish voice of none other than Umbridge and Ron saw Harry's posture stiffen at the sound, even before she had come fully into view. She rounded the corner and Ron was once again reminded of how much he despised the woman that had made their Fifth Year hell at Hogwarts.

"Dolores," Harry said much to Ron's surprise, he heard Ginny snicker and Hermione audibly gasp at his familiar term but none of them were nearly as surprised as Umbridge seemed to be. Her nostrils flared and her face turned as unpleasant shade of puce. "I would appreciate being addressed by my proper title, Mr. Potter," she spoke icily.

"My apologies. I'm always surprised to see that you still work for the Minister. In light of last year's... events. I would have expected you to...consider your options carefully before committing yourself back to the same position." Ron bit his lip to keep from laughing as Harry's thinly veiled threat about revealing some of Umbridge's crimes seemed to penetrate her mind. Harry was the nicest and most straight forward person Ron knew about 85% of the time but most people didn't realize that there was another side to Harry, a side that you really didn't want to mess with.

"My position... remains as stable as ever Mr. Potter, thank you for your concerns," Umbridge answered stiffly. "Mr. Kovac on the other hand is inserting himself into a situation that has nothing to do with him...or his – er, _kind_."

"The _Kováč_ Clan has sworn its loyalty to Harry Potter and his interests. Tonight, his interests were in question and so it very much concerned us. Madame." The tone was formal and polite but Ron knew that Umbridge was appropriately cowed. She looked nervous and took two steps backwards.

"Mr. Kováč, despite any deals that you have entered into, the fact remains that you and your...people entered into territory that you are not allowed to be in. That is a violation of our agreements and we have every right to take your people into custody."

"You're arresting people for fighting the Death Eaters?" Harry asked incredulously.

Fudge shot him a look of exasperation mixed with real anger. "Mr. Potter, I have welcomed your opinions with more-"

"You've welcomed my name on the front page next to yours," Harry answered harshly and Ron's eyebrows shot up. He knew how Harry felt about the Minister and the fact that he had practically blackmailed Harry to attend the Summit, it was also no secret that he would probably ask Harry to do more events. Ron knew that Harry had held his own when they had made his deal with the Minister but he couldn't believe that Harry had the nerve to speak like that to the most powerful man in Britain. Hermione made a slight noise that was somewhere between surprise and disapproval. Ron was not as conflicted, as far as he was concerned Fudge had made a terrible mess of everything last year and deserved to be taken down a peg or two.

"I would watch your tone boy," Fudge snapped and his slightly nervous posture was gone in the face of his anger.

"Might as well arrest me as well then, since your goal is apparently to get rid of anyone trying to help you," Harry pointed out.

"Mr. Potter that is enough," McGonagall called out sternly from down the hall. "Now may I ask why all of you are standing outside a hospital wing that is littered with students that need rest and care? I daresay you're all extremely lucky that Madame Pomfrey either hasn't heard you or doesn't have the time to deal with such nonsense."

Ron bit his lip to keep from grinning at the sight of his Head of House scolding the Minister of Magic as though he were a Fifth Year student that had just earned detention. Ron took a careful step away from the group, he knew well enough that Harry's presence might be tolerated but 'Arthur Weasleys' youngest boy' or 'Harry Potter's friend' would be sent back inside without a second thought and he very much wanted to hear what was going on.

"Sorry professor," Harry muttered but there was a lack of sincerity behind it. He seemed to swallow something he was about to say, perhaps a barb at the Minister and instead said, "Professor have you met Raymond Kováč? He's the Patriarch of the Kováč Clan."

"I have not had the pleasure," McGonagall answered with a stiff nod, on any other person it would have come across as sarcastic, but Ron knew his Head of House to know that curtness was often her way of being polite in a hurry. "Might I ask why you are all here at Hogwarts at this hour?"

Harry turned to tall, well dressed vampire with a curious expression. While it had been obvious that the man had been arguing on behalf of his people to the Minister, it was not clear at the moment why they were here at Hogwarts as opposed to the Ministry, or even Azkaban if the Minister was arresting vampires.

"My sincere apologies professor. I do wish to intrude upon your school or mean to cause any distruption for your students or staff, however, I had little choice in the matter. As a teacher that is familiar with Mr. Potter, you may have perhaps have heard about the events of this past summer?"

McGonagall nodded slowly, her stern expression softened slightly by curiosity. "I believe I heard from Severus that your clan has pledged itself to Potter's name and his causes but as generous a gift as that may be, Mr. Potter is still a student in my school at the moment and should not have any causes that need advancing beyond his Transfiguration Essay that is due on Monday that I very much doubt he has even started."

Ron saw Harry duck his head to find a smile and Kováč's eyes glinted with amusement. "Forgive me Professor, I understand your need for discipline and control and yet you and I both know that the events of tonight were very deliberately targeted against Harry. When we learned of the attack on Godric's Hollow, of the plans to use Inferi- an abomination of nature and magic to be sure- we knew that our vow demanded our attention at once. My people fought bravely and we were successful, but the Minister has had many of them arrested for being outside of agreed upon territory. As my alliance was made here, and because Hogwarts has served for centuries as a neutral political haven for all magical creatures," Raymond's lips curled slightly having to refer to himself and his people as 'creatures' and they were classified by the Ministry, "I insisted that we negotiate here, in neutral territory."

McGonagall pursed her lips but nodded. "Very well, but perhaps the Headmaster's office might be a more hospitable environment for such discussions rather than the corridor outside the Hospital Wing." She paused and Ron could see that was reluctant to voice the next part. "Do you feel Mr. Potter's presence is necessary Mr. Kováč? I do not wish to disrespect your alliance or your pledge but Potter is my student, my _underage_ student that is now out of bed after curfew."

Ron hid a grin as Harry flushed at simultaneously being included in such an important discussion, and being reminded that as a student he still essentially had a bedtime.

"Professor, I have nothing but the highest regard for your institution of learning and for the rules you set your young pupils. I am a man from a more ordered time and can appreciate the need for discipline. However, I must test your patience for I feel that given our current...situation," Kováč glanced at the Minister with undisguised displeasure, "a mediator such as Mr. Potter, who has ties to both sides would be extremely beneficial. If the Minister agrees, that is?" he added with false politeness.

"Minster I really must-" Umbridge began to protest but was overridden quickly by Fudge who refused to be intimidated.

"Of course, of course I've made it clear that Harry is always welcome to represent the interests of the Ministry," he added pointedly.

Harry's face was set and he had his shoulders squared in that particular manner that showed he had already decided on his course of action.

"Harry, you were really ill," Hermione whispered in Harry's ear, clearly upset that he had removed himself from the Hospital Wing.

"I'm alright Hermione," Harry said quietly. He spoke up for the rest of the group, "I would love to come."

Harry gave the three of them a brief nod as he set out to follow the adults and Ron was left unsure if he should feel guilty that Harry got to be involved when he didn't, or grateful that he wasn't expected to fix any of this crap.

HPHPHPHP

Ron missed Harry coming back to room for the night but he suspected that he didn't get in until the early hours of the morning.

Despite the lack of sleep, Harry was already up and looking through his dad's old Transfiguration book as Ron had seen him do many times that year. Hermione seemed to be much more approving of him using the tips that his dad had left him for Transfiguration than the improved directions in the Potions' book from HBP. Hermione swore this was because James had merely left his son good advice that he could have just as easily gotten from McGonagall if he had asked, while HBP was using potentially dangerous potion combinations that were untested. Ron suspected she was alright with it because Hermione was still outperforming Harry in Transfiguration despite the notes, while there had been quite a few times that term where HBP's method had produced better results than Hermione's devotion to the textbook version. Or at least that was what he heard from their rather stilted arguments about Harry's continued use of the book since Ron was mercifully spared from another year of Snape.

Ron actually found their arguments rather funny to be honest. He knew from personal experience that Hermione could argue her point forever if she thought she was right- the two of them were quite similar in that way, which was shown in the fact that the two of them generally got into at least two to three arguments a week. Harry, on the other hand, was not. Harry had a way of refusing to debate with her and yet winning the argument by sheer stubbornness because no matter what points Hermione made, Harry was going to continue to use the book. The fact that Harry refused to argue the point with her, infuriated Hermione more than any bickering that the she engaged in with Ron on a daily basis.

Ron wasn't sure what notes Harry's father had written but they certainly seemed to be helping. While Harry still wasn't top of the class or any particular prodigy in the subject, it seemed as though his father certainly had been. He had easier methods than most of the instructions in the book and the notes in the margins were littered with suggestions for more creative ways to use whichever spell they had been working on than whatever the lesson advised. Harry's practical work and even overall grades had gone up rather impressively that term after reading through his parents notes and Ron wondered what kind of wizard Harry would have been had he been raised by his parents. Would he have had a shot at the top of the class? Or would he have refused to listen to their advice because he didn't value it the same as he did from these books of people he had never truly known. McGonagall appeared to be alternately delighted and suspicious of Harry's seemingly new skills. Today though Ron had the impression that Harry had other intentions than studying with his book.

"Hey where is everyone?" Ron asked, feeling groggy. He coughed a bit, his mouth was dry from just waking up. Harry looked up from his book, his expression rather distant before he glanced at the clock on the bedside table and grinned, "I reckon they're in the Common Room after breakfast since it's nearly 11."

Ron blinked, feeling startled. It wasn't the first time he had slept in through the morning but he hadn't thought it was that late.

"How did it go last night? Did the Ministry let the Vampires go?"

Harry's thoughtful contemplation was replaced with a flash of anger. "Yeah, finally. It took bloody forever to convince the man that fighting Death Eaters is a good thing! He kept going on about 'setting precedents for Dark Creatures' and 'the public will have a field day!' Bloody useless."

"But its sorted out?"

Harry shrugged, "It's a bit complicated especially because Kováč's Clan is sworn loyalty to me, not the Ministry. Which basically means that I can't be in war without all of them being involved and the Ministry thinks that I can't be involved without working directly for them- but then tell that to Dumbledore. Oh and the werewolves back in Crescent Nest? They're still apparently a bunch of blood thirsty savages but apparently they heard about the alliance I have with Raymond and now they've called out a 'Blood Feud' on the lot of us. So it was good news all around."

Ron couldn't help it, he started to chuckle. Harry glared at him but Ron put both hands in the air. "Merlin Harry. Only you. You get yourself in it!"

Harry grumbled but he looked vaguely amused and Ron noticed a bit of tension came out of his face and remembered how deep in thought Harry had been when he hadn't thought anyone had been watching.

"Did you eat already?" Ron asked, feeling this was a better question than saying 'are you alright?' Because he knew just how well that would be received.

Harry shook his head. "Not hungry," he answered shortly. "I should go and see Ginny..." Harry gave him an uncertain look and Ron knee that he was wondering if Ron's acceptance of them had lasted the night.

"Yeah you probably should," Ron settled for answering and was rewarded with an easing of the tension in Harry's shoulders. "Er... listen mate I should have..."

"Forget it," Harry said shaking his head.

"No Harry I was a git. I should've..."

"Maybe you could have avoided saying that we would be a 'complete disaster'," Harry said wryly, with more humor though than Ron expected, "but you don't have to apologize to me for looking out for your sister," Harry said.

Ron shook his head, Harry had not reacted to this situation at all as he would have expected him to and it was becoming rather frustrating.

"The least you could have done is get offended like Ginny or hit me or something. I reckon I deserve it after some of the things I said to you," Ron huffed impatiently because the more reasonable Harry was being about the whole thing the worse it made him feel. A shadow passed over Harry's face and for the first time it occurred to Ron that Harry had actually agreed with him. That for some reason he didn't feel he _was_ good enough. Ron understood the feeling of coming up short very well but he couldn't for the life of him understand how rich, famous, boy-prophesied-to-kill-Voldemort Harry had reasons to feel insecure.

"I know how you feel about protecting Ginny and I'm not blind to the fact that anyone getting into a relationship with me is going to have a lot to deal with. It's not too often that you date someone in school and there's a decent chance it'll be headlines news. And then there's the fact that she might be in danger just being around me. I can understand why you wouldn't think it was a great idea for the two of us to be together."

"Wish Ginny was half as understanding," Ron muttered, Ginny had been vicious to him all week and Ron was almost certain that the only reason she had fallen short of full out hexing him or unleashing Fred and George's nastier products on him had been that Harry had somehow held her a bay. And people thought standing up to Voldemort took bravery.

"Well believe it or not I think it's easier hearing that you're the danger and someone should stay away from you, then being told you can't handle things yourself and need to be protected. If the situation had been reversed I might not have taken it as well either. Besides..." and he gave a rather sheepish grin as though he was not sure if he should be admitting this. "I know you well enough to know that you were going to come around eventually if I let you work out for yourself how big a git you are."

Ron blinked in surprise before forcing himself to laugh. Harry could be a real git himself sometimes.

"Let's just forget it alright?" Harry asked.

"Right. Until you hurt her, and then you're going to deal with me."

Harry grimaced, "and most likely her 5 other brothers, Merlin what did I get myself into." Ron laughed as Harry pulled himself out the bed, putting his father's Transfiguration book in the drawer of his bedside table.

"Right, now tell me everything about what happened to the Hufflepuffs." Ron rolled his eyes, Voldemort filled visions or dating his sister- Harry was always going to be just Harry.

 **A/N: Thanks as always for reading. I adore Ron and feel he takes a real beating in a lot of fanfiction. He can be jealous and petty and at times he's immature but he's also a teenage boy so I feel it's all pretty understandable behavior. It honestly no easy feat being Harry Potter's best friend and aside from a couple of missteps along the way, he really does the job justice.**

 **Edit- Hopefully no one saw the terrible unedited draft I accidently uploaded as the chapter! This is the real deal**


	27. Calm Before the Storm

**Chapter 27: Calm Before the Storm**

Harry exited Dumbledore's office and let out a breath of frustration. He had been going around in circles between the Ministry and the vampires for weeks now and they was no closer to coming up with a solution. Following Voldemort's devastating attack on Godric's Hollow, he had unleashed a reign of terror the likes of which took even Harry by surprise. The vision that Voldemort had forced onto Harry of Halloween night had been stronger and more painful than any other that Harry had experienced, the only pain that he had ever experienced that had surpassed it was when Voldemrot had actually succeeded in possessing him at the Ministry.

Ginny and Hermione had both been shocked and concerned about how long the vision had lasted and while none of his friends had been particularly happy when he had refused to go into details about what he had seen, surprisingly it had been Ron that had taken the news the best. Ginny felt that he should be telling her things that were important to him. Hermione felt that if he was that upset by what he had seen, than he needed to talk about it all the more. Ron, however, had defended Harry's right to silence, quietly stating that he thought that Harry should at least be telling Dumbledore anything that they needed to know but had told off both Ginny and Hermione for hounding him to talk about things before he felt that he was ready.

Harry had related the important facts. Voldemort's attack had been a complete surprise and very effective. They had canvassed the neighborhood and not seemed to target anyone specifically, the goal had been to spread terror. The only personal detail that Harry had related was the one he felt was most relevant fact, his parents' bodies had been taken. They had not been used in the attack but Voldemort had carefully shown him that he had taken his two most infamous victims and would be using them only at a time when Harry would be present personally.

Since then almost 6 weeks had past and things had only gotten worse. Four different Wizengamot members had been murdered in their own homes and Amelia Bones had barely escaped a coordinated attack herself. Other people had simply vanished. They were actively targeting squibs, first capturing and torturing them before killing them and displaying their mutilated corpses in the most horrific designs. For the very first time, Harry had felt a sliver of gratitude for being kept out of Order meetings and away from the graphic details when the Aurors present in one of the meetings and slid the photographs across for Harry to see. The wizarding picture was unusually still with the exception of the growing pool of blood around the body.

The muggles hadn't been spared either and it was becoming increasingly difficult for the Ministry to cover up the destruction the Death Eaters were causing. The underground had suffered a mysterious "collapse" and over a hundred people had been either killed or severely injured. There had been a rash of suicides in one village where Dementors had been let loose and the terrified and confused muggles had obviously been overwhelmed by despair. And the attacks weren't simply in England- there had been reports of mysterious murders and events in some of the countries that had met at the Summit. Harry hadn't been given any more information about what the other countries were doing but he didn't think that any solid alliances had been built.

Which led to the biggest problem of all, even worse than the attacks by the Death Eaters were the effects of fear on ordinary citizens that didn't know who to trust or who to turn to for safety. There were rumors that neighbors were behaving oddly and should be arrested on suspicion alone for aiding the Death Eaters. Harry had been called into several meetings, some simply so that the Minister could get a promised press release with Harry assuring the people that everything was alright, others where he had been asked to help represent the interests of the _Kováč_ Clan. But all of them had resulted in some way or another with Harry fighting with the Minister and his lackeys over false arrests and the lack of any real progress in the war. Harry condemned the Minister for doing more things for appearances sake than for actually trying to stop Voldemort and Harry had been accused of instigating fights simply to carry out his own personal grudges. In the end it all amounted to the same thing, Harry knew enough to know that if they kept doing Voldemort's job for him, then they had no hope of winning the war.

Harry walked slowly back to the Common Room, at once anxious to get to much more appealing company and determined to put himself in a better mood before he got there. When he had first gotten himself involved in the war in a real way, not simply as some puppet that was expected to do all of the dirty work while being treated like an ignorant child along the way, but as an actual partner, he had not been prepared for how... needlessly complicated everyone would make things. Harry was beginning to think that if all he had to worry about was practicing magic and someday killing Voldemort, things might actually be easy!

Following Harry's meeting with Raymond and the Minister, he had been in fairly regular correspondence with the leader of the vampire clan and he was beginning to see how difficult things were not only between the Clan and the Ministry but for the politics within the Clan itself.

Raymond had not been modest when he had warned Harry at the beginning of their alliance that not everyone in the Clan respected his authority. It seemed that Dimitri Anghelescu, the man whose party had been disrupted by the werewolf attack, had been trying to amass support for a counter-strike. While Raymond and many of the elders in the Clan felt that the Clan's energy and resources should be going towards fighting the war against Voldemort and making sure that the 'Dark One' was gone for good because he was the larger threat, Dimitri and many of the younger Vamps wanted revenge on the werewolves that had attacked them. They felt that Voldemort was the Wizarding World's problem, but the werewolves' attack had been personal. It had been on their village, on their people and to place it as anything other than the Clan's top priority was unacceptable.

Harry could understand their point, he too wanted them to pay for killing Greg and attacking all of them, but he knew that the werewolves were a distraction from the larger issue. They would never have attacked if Voldemort had not come back and made it possible for them to think they could get away with it. The werewolves needed to pay for what they did, but not at the expense of shifting focus away from what the Death Eaters were doing. Raymond was currently holding strong with his position- both as the Patriarch and with advancing his agenda- but Harry had a feeling the whole thing was heading towards a breaking point and he was beginning to lose confidence that they would come out on the winning side.

Harry got back to the Common Room, turning his attention to much better ways to pass his time then dealing with corrupt politicians and hot-headed vampires, Ginny was sitting by the fireplace her red hair swaying with the dancing flames so that she looked for a moment as though she were incandescent. As stressful as these last few weeks had been for him, his relationship with Ginny had made him the happiest Harry could ever remember being. He felt it was actually rather lucky that Harry had not realized how truly happy being with Ginny would make him or else he never would have let Ron keep them apart, even if Harry had been sure that Ron would eventually give in. Still when he thought about the fact that he had been miserable any longer than necessary before knowing what it was like to be perfectly content with a person you cared about, he hated the time he had lost.

"Hey beautiful," Harry murmured in Ginny's ear, kissing her neck briefly before settling in to sit behind her with Ginny between his legs and her body leaning back against his chest. She fit so well with him that Harry felt as though a piece of himself had always been missing.

"So how did it go?" Ginny asked.

Harry rolled his eyes, "how does it ever go?" He grumbled with irritation, so much for calming down before he spoke to her. "The Ministry still thinks that by arresting people based on suspicion they're keeping the public calm and everyone feels safer, I still feel its bullshit. Raymond will only work with the Ministry if the Clan is given assurances that they will remain autonomous from the Ministry's rule and they won't be held accountable if a Death Eater dies, the Ministry wants the Vamps to work _for_ them rather than _alongside_ them as partners. Three hours and no one says anything new," Harry groaned.

Ginny frowned, "but what does Dumbledore say? Surely you all must have come up with something."

Harry shrugged, he was tired of thinking about it to be honest. "Dumbledore seems to agree with me. The Clan is better as an ally, we need them really. Voldemort has been recruiting like crazy and you've seen in the paper yourself how many Aurors have been taken out in the raids. But the Clan deserves to be respected and all we're doing by fighting with them is wasting time. Time we don't really have," Harry muttered unhappily. "But even though Dumbledore's in the room, Fudge does his damndest to convince everyone that in spite of how much he fucked everything up last year, he's still the Minister and doesn't need to listen to Dumbledore if he doesn't want to." Harry rolled his eyes, refraining from further cursing the man for his incompetence.

Ginny's brown eyes were alight with rage, "what a bloody wanker," she declared and Harry felt his mood lighten as she gave voice to one of the many choice insults he had been using in his head.

Harry sighed and wrapped his arms a bit more tightly around her, allowing the softness of her skin and the firmness of her body comfort him. "It's just... I don't think the whole thing would bother me as much if I could do anything to _fix_ it," he admitted to her quietly. It was the part that was becoming increasingly hard to deal with. Evening after evening Harry would discuss the same problems- the same mindless prejudices, the same terrible solutions- and it wouldn't get him anywhere. Harry liked action, fighting a monster or a person you could see and who would fight back. It was true that it was terrifying and dangerous but it was also easy and simple and when it was over you knew immediately whether you won or lost. This was a much different battle, one that someone like Hermione would do well in but Harry felt constantly out of his depth. The whole thing had convinced him more than ever that he wanted to be Auror where he would doing the actual work rather than a politician that sat around nad spoke about someone else doing it.

The only person that seemed to hate the conversations more than himself was Snape on the few occasions that he had been invited as an 'ambassador' of sorts for the Vampires since they were long time acquaintances. Since Snape would still be used as a 'chaperone' if he left Hogwarts, he was often included in the meetings so that he could be kept up to speed and Harry found a grim sort of amusement in the fact that for all of the times he and Snape had spent in a room feeling annoyed and frustrated- for the first time those feelings were united in something other than each other.

Fudge should have been replaced as Minister the moment everyone realized that Voldemort had been back and the man had done nothing. The fact that the Wizengamot hadn't chucked him just showed Harry how many pockets the Minister was in. Lucius Malfoy might have been his largest donor but he certainly wasn't the only one and with one of the wealthiest men in the country arrested (for a brief time incarcerated) and publicly shamed, it only opened the opportunity for others to take his spot as 'man behind the man'.

Which only reinforced Harry's belief that if he was going to actually win this war, if he had any chance of actually killing Voldemort, he was not going to be doing it with the Ministry's help. He went to their meetings and he learned what they knew. He was even willing to use his ridiculous fame and name to throw support in the direction he thought would at least do the least damage- but he was looking for the Ministry to be damage control at best. The real war was always going to be between himself and Voldemort and for that there was only one man that Harry trusted to help him. In spite of his recent disappointments in the man, Harry was positive that the only person that truly understood how to win the war was Dumbledore.

Which meant that on top of Harry's classes, Quidditch practice, his training with Tonks, his own practice with Ron and Hermione in the Room of Requirement, his meetings with the Ministry and his letters and talks with Raymond- Harry still met with the Headmaster to learn about Voldemort. Harry was still unsure where these lessons were heading- there meanings were even more convoluted to him than any of the meetings with Ministry, which were stupid and ridiculous but at least straightforward, but he never once doubted that they would be useful. Which was why when Dumbledore had set him his first 'homework' assignment Harry knew that he was going to be forced into doing something that he would ordinarily avoid like the plague, though... perhaps if the company was right then it wouldn't be so bad after all.

"Listen," Harry said, eager to change the topic to more interesting things than his lack of progress with the Minister. If working with the Ministry was going to be a consummate exercise in failure, he wanted to move onto a project that he might actually be able to accomplish. He needed to retrieve that memory from Slughorn. "You know Slughorn? The old potions professor that was brought in to help judge our projects?" As a Fifth Year he was not sure if Ginny had had a reason to meet the man but she nodded.

"The one that keeps trying to get you round for tea?" Ginny asked lips twitching.

Harry gave her a rueful smile, truth be told Harry felt that his excuses for dodging the man had shot past flimsy and were bordering on rude but Slughorn's completely unapologetic desire to get to know him based solely on his famous name had turned Harry off of him immediately.

"That's the one. Well... turns out I'm going to need to talk to him and he invited me to his Christmas Party. Would you like to make a completely boring night pretty wonderful by coming with me?" Harry asked before his face flushed at his own flowery words.

Ginny grinned and kissed him, her lips soft and responsive and not for the first time Harry reflected that for the first time since he could remember he felt like the luckiest guy in the world. "Absolutely. Now what are we getting him to talk about? And why do you think it's going to take you finally showing your face at one of his little parties to get him to spill the beans?"

Harry chuckled, it was times like this when Ginny reminded him why the twins always claimed that Ginny was the hardest in the family to pull pranks on; she rarely missed anything important.

"Don't worry about it, just something Dumbledore thinks he might tell me. But that should only take part of the night and the rest we can just have fun. I promise." Once again Ginny frowned and Harry knew she was upset with his evasion of an answer. When he and Ginny had gotten together he had shared with her much of what he had been doing. He told her about the vampires and the Ministry and she knew that Dumbledore had been meeting with him to give him information that he needed to know but Harry had stopped at actually telling her that information. She didn't know about the prophecy and Harry had no intention of telling her.

Dumbledore had wanted him to keep information as quiet as possible and Ginny was a year younger than himself, Ron and Hermione. He felt the urge to keep her as far away from that part of his life as possible. Angry though his friend might have been when he had said them, Ron's words echoed in his mind ' _The two of you are going to be a complete disaster Harry, you must know that! Everything around you is one giant disaster and you actually want to drag my sister into it?'_ and he knew that it was true. Everyone in Harry's life that either cared about him or represented family with the exception of Ron and Hermione had died and he wouldn't allow that to happen to Ginny by virtue of being too close to him.

But it would have been impossible to keep the fact that they were dating a secret. Lavender had gloatingly told him it was the romantic gossip of the year and that every girl's toilet had been chatting about it incessantly, something Hermione had confirmed with a more exasperated tone. Which meant that as much as he hated to even consider the possibility, if someone did get a hold of her then she couldn't tell them what she didn't know. In spite of Harry's perfectly sound arguments Ginny was annoyed that he kept anything from her and though it hadn't changed his mind, Harry appreciated the feeling of being left out and tried not to bring attention to it.

"Harry," Hermione interrupted and for the first time since he and Ginny had gotten together Harry was glad for it. "Did you prepare for the defense duel?" And Harry recognized the signs of Hermione's pre-exam jitters. Tackley had been splitting them into different pairs or groups for different types of duels. She was very big on what she referred to as 'instinctual preparation', performing the same defenses so many times that the spells came quickly and naturally. So that if you were attacked, you were raising your wand with a shield charm on your lips before your conscious mind had even processed what had occurred. While in some ways Harry could appreciate the need for such a defense, he also found her tactics incredibly predictable.

"If by prepare do you mean have I been practicing dueling then yes, Tonks kicked my arse for about the 76th consecutive time just last night but on the upside the ass-kicking is now lasting much longer than it used to since I can at least hold out for a bit. Makes for larger bruises on my backside but thankfully less on my ego so there's that. But if you mean have I been working on Tackley's mad little strategy techniques then, no."

Ginny snickered at his comment and Harry blushed as he only then realized what he had said about his backside in front of her. They had not yet reached the point in their relationship where she had seen it for herself but Harry had spent quite a bit of time imagining Ginny's own delightful curves.

Hermione scowled at him, unlike Harry she had no reservations about Tackley's strategies despite the fact that she and Neville had lost the competition with the statues. However, she found it hard to criticize Harry when he had come out the clear winner. "Harry... I understand your points about being unpredictable... no don't look at me like that, I do, but you could also give her some respect! She deserves it Harry. She's good, you have to admit that."

Harry huffed but gave a reluctant nod, it was true. Tackley knew her stuff and she was a good teacher. He had noticed that quite a few people had improved a lot with her help and Harry could admit that much. However, they had vastly different styles to how they did things and he grew frustrated with the fact that Tackley only ever saw one answer to a problem. "Never said she wasn't."

"Really? And the fact that I heard you and Theodore Nott talking the other day about her being a secret Death Eater?"

Harry shrugged defensively, "well Nott would have a good idea about who's a Death Eater," he hedged. Tackley was good, Harry knew that, but fake-Moody, Barty Crouch had been a fairly great teacher up until he had tried to kill Harry. He wasn't entirely positive that she was a Death Eater but there was something odd about her that his instincts refused to ignore. When Nott had heard his theory from the beginning of the year, the Slytherin had run with it every time the woman brought up a questionable tactic. He said it all so earnestly that Harry sincerely had no idea if Nott was taking the mickey out of him or else actually believed Harry's wild theory.

"You've been talking to Theodore Nott? The son of the Death Eater?" Ginny asked, clearly startled by this information. "Since when do you talk to him?" 

Harry shrugged, slightly surprised by her clear condemnation, Ginny was not generally one to push her own ideas on to other people like Hermione did. While Ginny certainly made her own opinions about something known, she was usually content to people to make their own decisions as long as she was given the same courtesy.

"We were on the same Defense team back in the beginning of the year and we actually got along pretty well. I know," Harry added with a smile at her surprised look, "kinda surprised the hell out of me too. I mean, we're not friends or anything. We don't hang out and play Quidditch or whisper secrets to each other but... we get along well enough I suppose. And just because his dad is a Death Eater, it doesn't make him one."

"right and just because the two of you can share a laugh together in Defense it doesn't mean that he's going to turn on his own family to protect you," Ginny responded fiercely. "You have to understand Harry, what Sirius did- almost no one does that. Family loyalty is everything in the Wizarding World. It's part of the reason why Dad was so furious with Percy last year. He wasn't just turning his back on us, he was turning his back on Weasley tradition. You need to be careful, Harry. Nott will care a lot more about his family than he is ever going to care about you," she told him bluntly.

Harry didn't really know what to say to that. Family loyalty meant something completely different to him than it did to most people. He had no sense of what his parents actually wanted, and absolutely no possibility of being reprimanded for his actions or decisions and yet at the same time he had spent years trying to make both of them proud of him. He didn't fight against Voldemort simply because they had done, he fought against him because they had fought and lost and needed to be avenged. But at the same time, he admired his godfather for stepping away from a prestigious family- money, title, political power- because he didn't agree with them. It took a kind of strength that Harry honestly didn't know if he possessed. The Death Eaters were terrible, cruel people, but they were also brought up to believe what they did about blood purity by their parents. Could Harry truly fault them for following what their families had taught them since they were old enough to speak? Yes, he could. But he still felt that it was easier knowing that he didn't have to fight his conscience for his family.

"I don't really expect him to choose me over anyone Ginny. Believe me, I might like talking to Nott but that doesn't mean that I trust him. But I also can't assume that he's a Death Eater just because his father is. I don't think it's right to judge one person based on what someone else does," he added quietly, thinking about how much Snape had always hated Harry simply because of what his father had done. It was true that since the summer, the man had been much nicer to him but that didn't erase years of unfair treatment for him, and years of resentment and bitterness for Snape.

"Right Gin, you start judging people by their family members and if we're not lucky and we get lumped together with Percy," Ron added with a bit of smirk as he jumped into the conversation at the end. "Let me guess, this about Harry's weirdo friendship with Nott?"

"It's not a weirdo friendship!" Harry defended hotly but Ron was grinning at him, clearly enjoying himself by winding Harry up.

"Right, anyway," Ginny interrupted, looking as though she was recognizing the fact that tension needed to be diffused, "have either of you heard about this party that Slughorn is throwing? Harry just asked me to go."

Both Ron and Hermione turned to look at him with surprise, he had been carefully avoiding Slughorn for the past month every time the older man tried to invite him around for tea and they knew perfectly well that he was less than impressed with the politics game the man attempted to play. Harry shrugged at them, "I have to get some information from Dumbledore and I thought it might be easier if I get him liquored up first."

"Harry!" Hermione gasped, clearly scandalized at the idea. Harry was unmoved. For over a month, ever since Halloween, Harry had felt as though he was spinning his wheels and getting nowhere. The chance to move forward, to have a task that could actually be completed as opposed to simply a series of endless talks that never went anywhere had him excited and anxious. He was not at all sure how to go about getting the memory from Slughorn when Dumbledore himself had been refused but Harry was determined that he was not going to fail and if that meant taking advantage of a situation, Harry was prepared for that.

Ron seemed equally unperturbed with this plan but he shrugged instead at Ginny's question, "everyone's heard about it Gin. It's all anyone's been talking about all day. Sounds like it's going to be the party of the year. Which considering it's basically the only party of the year, might not be as impressive as it sounds," he added cheekily.

Ginny's eyebrows raised slightly as though this were news to her and Harry supposed that it must be since she had not seemed to know about the party until he had mentioned it just now. Ginny was generally much better at keeping up with the school gossip than the three of them and he smirked at her, knowing that the two of them had been so invested in spending as much time together as possible- and Ginny cramming all of her studies into when Harry was busy- that a lot of their other social engagements had temporarily fallen to the wayside. With how busy Harry's schedule had become, he rarely saw Ron and Hermione outside of classes unless they had specifically planned to do homework or else practice their dueling together. "I was hanging out with Luna in the library earlier but she didn't say anything," she said thoughtfully. 

"Yeah well, not to sound mean but Luna's not exactly the first person people go running to about parties," Ron said matter-of-factly. Hermione and Ginny both scowled at him but they couldn't truthfully contradict the statement.

"Too bad," Harry commented, thinking more to himself than speaking out loud. "Luna's great. If I wasn't taking Ginny, I would go with Luna."

"Er... Well actually I was thinking Ron..." Hermione started, suddenly nervous. Her eyes darted to look at Ginny and Harry as though she could somehow pretend that they weren't present at that moment. "Speaking of the Christmas Party I was wondering...wondering if you wanted to go together."

Ron blinked in surprise, "you want me to go with you to Slughorn's Party?" he asked blankly.

Hermione blushed slightly at having to repeat herself but she nodded, struggling to keep her composure and sound off-hand she added, "Well, I know how hard it is to get invited and I didn't want you to be left out but I thought it would be nice if we were all able to go, it'll be fun if we're all together, don't you think?"

Ron's blank expression turned into a frown as he took in her words and Harry knew that Hermione had said the wrong thing.

"Oh right," he said, voice harder now, "and I don't suppose there could be any way that Slughorn would invite me to his big party. Good thing you're willing to help me out."

"oh," Hermione winced, realizing her mistake and trying quickly to correct it, "I didn't mean it like that or anything its just... well you know that Slughorn tends to invite the same people over and over again..."

"And I never made the cut for the Slug Club, right," he answered hollowly.

"I didn't mean that you _shouldn't_ be invited Ron. I want you to come. It'll be fun and I just thought, you know what with everything that's been happening with you lately and...with the war it would be nice way to take your mind off things."

For a brilliant witch Hermione had a terrible way of sticking her foot in her mouth. It was amazing really, the way she had of saying the worst thing possible. The problem was, Hermione was a bit too honest for her own good and at the same time was lying through her teeth. Harry knew as well as she did that she wanted to invite Ron on a real date, not as friends, but she was unwilling to say it. Instead she was masking it as means of helping Ron with his own problems, which she probably felt was actually needed but was not her motivation for asking and so Harry was not surprised at all when Ron grew defensive.

"Take my mind..." he let out a breath of air through his nostrils, "thanks Hermione but you don't need to worry about my fragile state of mind. Besides, hard as it might be for you to imagine there are even people that would be willing to ask me as more than just a favor."

Hermione's face was slightly pale and she looked as though she truly didn't know how she had dug herself in so deep so quickly. "I didn't mean... I'm sorry Ron, that all came out wrong. I just thought it would be fun to go to the party together," she repeated once more weakly.

"Right well, you know what? Do yourself a favor Hermione and find yourself a real date. I'll certainly be looking for one." He left abruptly, climbing out of the portrait hole, knowing that there was still another hour before curfew for Sixth Years was official in effect. Hermione looked to be on the edge of tears and Harry didn't know what to say to her. He was saved from further interference by Ginny, who squeezed his thigh once more before leading Ginny back up towards the girl's dormitory.

HPHPHP

The next morning Ron and Hermione were studiously avoiding one another. Ron was still angry over what had been said the night before and Hermione seemed rather embarrassed by her own mangling of the situation. Harry was caught in the unenviable position of not even knowing who needed more comfort at the moment. Usually it was Ron that was saying something insensitive to Hermione or else Hermione was being so bossy that she felt completely justified in whatever she had said and he was free to talk to Ron. This time, Ron was hurt by Hermione's words but she felt incredibly guilty for them. Both of them looked rather worse for wear at the moment. And so it was a rather somber group that made it their first class of the day.

After two months of Tackley's Defense classes, three for those that had been able to take the Ministry course over the summer, Harry could honestly say that the classes' dueling skills had improved. Tackley was big on running drills that practiced the same skills over and over again, until your wand moved the right movements without conscious thought and you were as proficient at the spell nonverbally as you were with speaking it out loud. It was boring and tedious and, if Harry had to be honest about it, terribly effective. Everyone in their class could put up a nearly impenetrable shield charm. Every one of them could stun, disarm, slow an attacker, send a signal for help, and knew how to create an appropriate distraction in order to get away- the basics that any novice witch or wizard should know if they had no actual desire to pursue a career in law enforcement and what Umbridge should have been teaching them all a year ago.

But Harry didn't like her. It was rather hard to pin point why exactly. He wasn't sure if it was the extreme devotion that Tackley had to a Ministry that had proven that they were incompetent. Or the simple fact that she continued to insist on plans that Harry knew wouldn't work with so much confidence that he was convinced she was leading them all into a trap. Tackley was insistent that all emotions be strictly controlled during a duel, which honestly made Harry wonder if the woman had ever really been in a scenario in which she had feared for her life. She must have been, if she had been a practicing Auror for years, but he knew from personal experience that there was no way to control the fear that bubbled in your chest when you knew that you were in extreme danger- the only thing you were able to do was channel it at your enemy. Harry had not be quiet about their stylistic differences and earned himself a detention or two for speaking out of turn,

As a result of their continued disagreements of fighting style, Tackley had been making Harry's life a living hell in Defense. She was becoming as relentless as Snape had once been, though unlike in Potions Harry felt as though he held his ground well and despite her constant challenges and snide comments.

"Good morning to you all. Today we are going to be expanding on our practice spells with a small duel. At the beginning of the term, Mr. Potter and his team showed some rather adept ingenuity when it came to planning an attack- but most often there is no time to plan and instincts have to already be in place. There can be no hesitation in a duel or you will lose. Today we are going to be doing paired duels- and to make things easier, I'm going to keep you all with your assigned partner for your Sixth Year assignments. After nearly four months of working together you should be comfortable enough to anticipate one another's moves, this will not always be the case and I suggest that you take advantage of it now."

The class moved so that they were no standing with their assigned partners, Daphne looking slightly more happy than she usually was when they were forced to work together and Harry knew that Defense was the one subject that she truly counted on him to be the stronger partner.

Tackley spoke up to give them all further instructions. "The point of today's exercise is to either defeat your opponent or to make the duel last for as long as possible. Remember, the point of this class is first and foremost defense- you do not need to beat your enemy, you need to survive until someone trained can get to you safety. Which is why, although winning the duel is obviously your goal, both teams will receive credit for keeping a duel going longer than five minutes.

"The first duel is going to be between two groups that I feel confident have a firm grasp of the techniques that I have been showing you. I hope that you all take note of the strategies and spells that they utilize. Granger and Boot, you'll be against Longbottom and Malfoy."

Harry saw Hermione and Neville give small smiles of satisfaction at being called up as examples to the rest of the class and Malfoy raised his chin slightly in recognition of the fact that he was being rewarded for his skills.

Harry planned to watch the blond in particular. No one else seemed to find Malfoy's actions in any way suspicious but Harry had been unable to shake the feeling all year that Malfoy was up to something larger than they knew and the fact that someone had mysteriously poisoned the Hufflepuffs on Halloween for some unknown purpose had only increased his suspicions. Harry didn't think that the Hufflepuffs were the target but had no way of proving it and no one else seemed particularly interested in hearing his conspiracy theories at the moment and so he would settle for being interested in seeing if the Slytherin had a few fighting skills under his belt.

The four students walked up to dias. The platform, as usual, was placed behind protective shields to endure no stray curses hit unprepared students. Harry rather thought that if Moody were teaching (real or fake version) than he would have forgone any protection as further means of promoting 'constant vigilance'. They two teams bowed to one another, none of them breaking eye contact with the enemies. The first time they had practiced dueling and Harry had been instructed to bow he had nearly refused as a shiver of remembered terror had run down his spine.

 _Bow to death..._

But Harry had escaped and he would not allow the memory of Voldemort's gloating face to taunt him anymore. Instead, now he used the instruction as a stimulus. A reminder that this above all else was the most important class he was taking. He was not a fan of Tackley or her regimented style of thinking every situation had a set plan but he didn't doubt that he could learn from her nevertheless. He couldn't afford not to use everything advantage that he could get, take in every lesson that he could. It had not escaped Harry's notice that aside from Lupin, his best defense teacher had been the Death Eater, Barty Crouch, he would take his lessons where he could.

The signal was given and Harry watched as Neville struck with a stunner at the same time Hermione cast out the impediment jinx, both partners had raised shields. It was much like Harry had expected. Tackley had chosen wisely, no one was breaking script and they were all moving like a well-choreographed dance.

A very well memorized dance. Harry was watching closely. Tackley might find him rude, even insubordinate, but he was not about to take anything done in this class lightly and so he watched all four of them closely, learning their styles, trying to see the subtle differences in how they performed the same spells and how the changes affected the performance.

Hermione went for sheer wealth of knowledge. She rarely repeated a spell and her movements were precise and accurate. Neville was more basic in fighting but no less effective. He concentrated on five to six spells that he performed with power and finesse and was careful in his plans. Malfoy was focused almost entirely on his own protection. He paid little regard to his partner but kept his sights on his enemies with a studied eye, he reminded Harry vaguely of a Seeker looking for a snitch, only this time Malfoy was using his sharp reflexes and well-trained eye to avoid curses. Terry Boot was creative but it was clear that he was the most uncomfortable with dueling. Boot liked to take his time with spells, Defense had never seemed to be his favorite subject and as Harry studied his movements it occurred to him that in Transfiguration, in which the Ravenclaw was exceptionally talented, Terry had always seemed to focus on the perfection of his spells, never the speed. Defense required fast movements and an ability to adapt on the fly, not the kind of spellwork a perfectionist like Boot usually cared to do.

They were 7 minutes in and holding strong but Boot was the first to go down. He was able to hold a shield but only for so long and eventually Neville was able to get him in between spells. With her partner down, Hermione grew flustered and in her panic she did not hold up as well as when she was more confident. She was tripped up by own complex combination of jinxes and taken down by Neville.

"Excellent work for both teams. I liked the use of repetitive spells from Longbottom and Malfoy- though Mr. Malfoy do try and at least pretend to care about someone other yourself? Boot, Granger very good effort and good use of the partnered defense approach of trading off defensive points.

"Next up we have Weasley and McMillian and... Potter and Greengrass," she said with just the smallest of smirks.

So she went with a different strategy today. Rather than have Harry go up directly against one of her protégé's, she was having him go up against one of his own so to speak. Ron was Harry's biggest defender and the only other person in the class willing to go 'off script' when it came to her exercises. She had, after all, made a point of saying that the point today's activity was for both teams to last longer than five minutes- and her two favored teams had done just that. If their duel failed to exceed that mark than she would use it as evidence that his arguments were flawed.

"You better make this interesting Potter," Nott muttered to him from Daphne's side. Harry knew that the two of them were good friends and it both amused and surprised him that over the course of the term, Nott had seemed to thaw in his hostility towards him to the point where the two of them had a cordial if not close relationship whereas his own partner had seemed utterly determined to maintain the same distance between themselves.

Harry raised his eyebrow and played dumb. "Don't know what you mean."

"I mean I'm in the process of betting Zambini and Parkinson right now that you're going to beat Tackley at her game and I hate losing money- so don't ruin this for me."

Harry snorted, "I'll see what I can do." Harry caught Daphne's arm right before they went onto the dais, "if you need to, get behind me and when I give you the signal...create the biggest distraction you can think of without giving yourself up." Daphne gave him a rather obligatory look of rebellion before nodding.

"Ready for this?" Ron asked with a smirk, it seemed Tackley's reasoning was not lost on Ron either and Harry knew that this was exactly the sort of release that Ron needed- a down and out nasty duel. The two of them had been practicing in the Room of Requirement for weeks on the dummies but although they had spotted one another, they hadn't actually fought head to head but Harry knew that Ron felt confident that he could unleash anything on Harry and it would alright.

Harry smiled and nodded with more confidence than he felt. Ron knew how he fought. Ron was a master chess player and better at strategy than Harry could ever hope to be- and Ron was just as committed as Harry to causing havoc in Tackley's class.

"Bow to one another."

Harry gave a stiff bow, eyes trained carefully on Ron and Ernie before raising his wand.

"Accio glasses!" Ron shouted out.

Son. Of. A. Bitch.

Harry's already raised shield charm was designed to block spells aimed for him, not objects and sure enough his glass sailed away, directly into the wall where Harry heard the tell-tale sound of shattered glass. Harry heard the gasp of the crowd, a few people laughing, a few giving indignant cries that Weasley had cheated.

" _Nonsonus"_ Harry cried out, waving his wand in a large arch at the dome that was used as a shield around the duelers. It was soundproofing charm, used not to keep the people under the charm silent from others, but to keep outside noise from getting into a certain area which made it easier to cast on a designated area. When they had learned it earlier that year in Charms, a few Purebloods had said that parents often used it on the rooms of small children so that they wouldn't be disturbed by the rest of the house when they went to bed early, but the parents could still hear them if they were in distress. This time it meant that the class could still hear the duel but Harry was blocked from the outside noise of the class- he needed to be able to concentrate.

Harry raised the strongest shield he could just in time, he could feel the impact of two spells on it and he knew that Ron and Ernie had gone in for the early kill. The shield would protect both Harry and Daphne for a moment despite Tackley's warning about the dangers of a single shield against multiple spells. Harry knew that his shield was secure... a vague unsure memory of another shield charm came to him... but he couldn't think about that right now.

"Really Ron?" Harry asked as he held his shield, mind working quickly.

"I'll take my advantages where I can get them Harry," Ron's voice came back with the smug assuredness he usually had when playing chess.

Harry dropped his shield and threw a combination of jinxes and hexes at the pair, Ernie and Ron were good. They worked well together, Ron taking offense and Ernie taking defense. Daphne, much as Harry had expected was not much a dueler but knew how to work any situation to her advantage. She set off a series of bright flashes of light, making it difficult for the other team to see them. Tit for tat and all that.

Without his glasses Harry was forced to use his other senses. His hearing for the curses. Bright enough lights that it would off-set the blurriness of his vision but most importantly, he forced himself to feel around himself. Magic always left charges in the atmosphere and by sensing where it was coming from not only could Harry avoid the curses but he would know where to throw back his own.

Ron sent a blasting curse at the ceiling and Harry was forced to use a banishing charm to protect Daphne while rolling away himself from the damage of the falling rubble. "What do you think I am? I bloody mountain troll?" Harry yelled in frustration at the redhead's ploy to knock him out with objects rather than spells.

Ron laughed but two could play at that game and shot a small pebble directly at Ron's nostril. Ernie hurled a powerful reducto in Harry's direction while Ron was forced to sort himself out but Harry's shield reflected the curse right back at them... with strength. It blasted into the shield behind them and Harry could see a fissure in the dome. Harry used it to his advantage and sent another powerful blasting curse at the dome rather than his opponents where he feared that it would cause serious damage.

"Accio trunk!" Harry shouted out, if Ron wanted to get nasty, Harry could get nasty.

Harry's suspicions of what was in the trunk were confirmed when he saw the familiar vestige of Voldemort come out of the wooden box, he wasn't surprised, given the war Harry had assumed that there was a fair chance that no matter who saw the boggart it would take a similar form.

"Oh Master!" Daphne called out.

"What!" Ron and Ernie shouted, turning in shock.

" _Expelliarmus_ _!_ _Expelliarmus_ _!"_ Ernie and Ron were divested of their wands in short order.

Harry stepped forward and levelled his wand at the boggart that several people were cringing away from before calmly saying, "if you've ever actually seen your face in the mirror, I think you could easily say... _riddikulus_!"

The boggart was easily banished and Harry cancelled the charm on the dueling shields so that he could now hear the surprise of the class. "Well done Daphne!" He called out, raising his hand to give her a high five but she gave him a withering look. "Really Potter? Have a little decorum and stop asking me use feeble muggle hand gestures."

Harry laughed before turning aback to his friend. "Sorry mate, no hard feelings?" Harry asked holding out his hand in a vague direction that he knew Ron was standing in. He could only make out the blurry outline of his body.

Harry heard rather than saw Ron first summon and then repair his broken glasses, handing them back to him before shaking his hand. "Suppose I had that coming after I started it. I always forget that you can be a right nasty bugger when you want to be," Ron muttered but he was in a better mood than he had been at the start of the day. Harry had been right, Ron had needed to burn off some energy and the fact that he had been able to hurl his spells at full strength at Harry's shield had helped him. Ron was staring at him with a rather bemused expression on his face.

"Er...Potter, Greengrass was...kidding?" Ernie asked as he came over.

Harry chuckled, "trust me if she were a real Death Eater she never would have never gone with that distraction in the middle of class. No, she just knew that it would break your concentration."

Ernie shook his head, "remind me never to get your bad side Potter. You're vicious in a duel. That shield? That was some piece of work!" Harry grinned but there was still something flickering at the edge of his memory, shattered fragments that he had not put completely together. He suddenly recalled the Death Eaters from that summer trying to get through his shield and being unable to break through. He remembered what seemed like golden flames erupting from him... but that had never happened... Harry shook himself out of the memory, surprised that it had caught him unaware after all this time. Everything from after he had been poisoned by the plant was foggy in his mind and he hadn't bothered to dwell on the memories. Frankly after the horror of the werewolves and the dementors, he hadn't felt the need to recall even more trauma in his life but the effect of the duel spells colliding with his solid shield had stirred long forgotten memories for the first time in months.

"You're partner here isn't half bad himself," Harry answered with a grin in Ron's direction. The two of them had been practicing for the past few weeks but Ron had apparently been waiting to unleash his best moves for when they had an audience.

Ernie and Ron both flushed rather awkwardly, glancing away from one another and giving rather strained smiles at the comment. Despite the fact that Harry had not meant any double meaning in his words, it was clear that they had taken the word 'partner' rather intimately and it had not gone over particularly well, Harry wondered if the two of them had had a fight as well. Things certainly didn't appear to be going very well for Ron at the moment.

Tackley looked fairly stunned at the tactics both Harry and Ron had used, and on he each other no less. "Well... that's all we have time for today, I want summaries on the strategies employed by all four teams and what each of them could have done to improve- and by that I mean the winners and losers. Class dismissed."

Ron shot Harry a wry grin and he knew that he wasn't the only one that was satisfied with leaving the normally quick-to-lecture- Tackley momentarily speechless.

HPHPHPHP

The next class of the day was Potions which meant that Ron didn't come with them. Many times he took the time to walk down with them before setting off for the Common Room but with the fight with Hermione still too fresh he had taken the opportunity to get out quickly.

Harry's recent success in Defense had raised Hermione's own defenses. Hermione was a naturally competitive person and she took nothing more seriously than her class performance. Hermione had managed to maintain a spot at the top of the class since their First Year and she had not relinquished it from her Death Grip since. In fact, the only class that Hermione was not the absolute best in aside from subjects that she wasn't taking, was Defense, and even there she had always been a close runner up.

Harry knew that she tried to accept this defeat gracefully, claiming that Harry deserved the top spot and she had even ceded control of Dumbledore's Army to him the year before when he had first claimed that she had the better grades, but despite the fact that Hermione was genuinely proud and even pleased with Harry's work in a subject that was so important to his own survival, he knew that it not-so-secretly bothered her that Harry came by success so naturally when she studied so hard.

However, Defense was not a subject that one could study strictly out of books. Harry suspected that was why Hermione, and perhaps even Neville, loved the way Tackley taught so much. She took out the element of guess work and surprise and put it all down to rote memorization and muscle memory. But Harry didn't fight that way. You could learn tips and spells but mostly Defense came down to instinct. And luck. Lots and lots of luck no matter how much practice you thought you had.

However, regardless of Hermione's slight annoyance at her second-rate Defense performance, it was nothing compared to the real anger that she had for Harry's newly found potion's skills. The two of them had been arguing for weeks about his continued use of the potions' book that his mother had left him. Hermione had at least- _finally_ \- conceded the point that his mother would not have left him a book that filled with dangerous, unstable recipes, but only after Harry had finally lost his temper and stormed away from her when she had suggested that Harry was putting the class in danger by experimenting with methods that he didn't know would work. However, she still maintained that it was cheating and that his improved grades were based on someone else's work. Harry was not about to stop using the book, this was the first time in 6 years that he not only was brewing well but understanding what he was doing and actually... enjoying it.

Snape had kept a cool distance from him in school this year, and Harry found that it was infinitely easier to brew without a man that had in his earlier years had intimidated him, and in later years frustrated him to the point of rage, staring down at him. Without the fear that Snape was going to either berate him, embarrass him or else simply vanish his potion for some imagined slight, Harry was focusing in a way that he had never done before. In fact, Harry thought that even without HPB's words of wisdom, he would have been doing alright- not great or anything but certainly passing. But with the enhanced instructions, Harry experienced the new sensation of excitement when his potion changed to just the right color, or reacted in precisely the right manner. He remembered for the first time in ages that he had been exceptionally excited about reading the potions book that he had received in Diagon Alley on his eleventh birthday and up until that moment when Snape had made it clear that he despised Harry for apparently no reason at all, he had been quite keen on learning everything about the subject. The fact that he had also read his own mother's notes over and over again, not only learning from her tips but sensing her genuine enthusiasm as she wrote down her notes in excited, hurried writing, only made him enjoy the subject even more.

Harry kept waiting for Snape to call him up after class and accuse him of cheating himself. Harry had never been good at the subject and his improvement should have seemed unnatural. It seemed almost strange that Snape, who had always been so quick to accuse him of lying or stealing or just general bad behavior with no proof at all in the past now said nothing when he was presented with a legitimately suspicious circumstances. Leave it to Snape to make you jumpy by _not_ accusing you of cheating.

Today, they were brewing a variation on the Pepper Up Potion, one used for mental fatigue rather than physical illness, and once again Harry was looking to HBP for advice. Hermione, Harry was almost amused to note, had found herself in a moral quandary. Harry knew that as much as he hated being at odds with either Ron or Hermione, it was Hermione that truly couldn't take it. As often as she and Ron bickered, when one of them was truly upset with the other, she hated it. Which meant that she was having trouble giving him her usual disapproving looks while she was in the midst of a fight with Ron because the last thing that she wanted to do was alienate both of them at the same time- or worse have them shut her out together as they had Third Year. Harry was no longer quite as insensitive as he had been at the age of 13 and had no intention of ganging up on Hermione, but he was enjoying watching her inner struggle as she so obviously wanted to disapprove and yet didn't want to upset him at the same time.

However, slowly Harry's attention was taken away from both Hermione's frustrated tutting and his vastly improved potions work and settled on the feeling of tension coming from an unlikely source in the room. The Ravenclaws had arrived agitated and angry, tensely whispering with one another and sending angry scowls at just about all of their Housemates. The only times Ravenclaw seemed to be the source of conflict was either when they were securing coveted tables in the library during exam periods or else during particularly charged Quidditch matches. In fact, over the years despite the claims of loyalty, Harry had discovered that he had generally had more trouble coming from the Hufflepuffs than he did from the House of wisdom and brains.

At first he thought that there must have been some disagreement that had broken out among them in their Common Room but Harry's keen radar for trouble detected that there was a more... sinister and yet mysterious undertone at play. From the hushed insults and snide accusations, Harry gathered that someone was being accused of being a thief but they were unsure who the culprit was. It was then that Harry's attention turned to the one Ravenclaw that had gone about their work with laser focus. Sue Li had been quiet, which was nothing unusual for the shy but highly productive girl, but she had sat her body almost at perfect attention during the initial short lecture and then moved with careful efficiency to get her ingredients. But it wasn't until Harry looked at her face that he got a sense of real alarm- her eyes were blank.

Alarms bells went off in Harry's head and he quickly thought through what he needed to do. His first thought was getting Snape's attention, which actually threw him for a second considering he had never before had that thought when he had found himself in trouble, but there were too many problems with that particular plan. First was the strange fact that Snape had been facing them all in the beginning of the period, if Harry had noticed her eyes, it seemed impossible that the potion's master had not seen them as well. Was there a reason he wasn't saying or doing anything about it? Old suspicions arose in Harry despite the fact that Snape hadn't done anything recently to break his trust.

Harry shoved his confusion about Snape aside for the moment and considered facts. The class was filled with Slytherins, and he knew that at least Malfoy was connected to the Death Eaters and possibly others, if he went to Snape it might blow the man's cover as a spy and that was the last thing that he wanted to do.

Harry ended the class with his worst potion of the year but he didn't care about any of that at the moment. He had no idea how to undo an Imperious Curse when it was cast on another person and he needed help. He remembered that he hadn't seen Dumbledore that morning in the Great Hall and had to assume that the Headmaster was busy attending to other matters about the war. McGonagall could help... Tackley. Tackley had been an Auror, trained Aurors, she should know what to do. And, Harry's mind couldn't help but supply, it was a chance to see her reaction. He wasn't sure of her loyalties but if she was a Death Eater she wouldn't be pleased about anyone finding out that their latest plot had been uncovered. It was a test and Harry was determined to spring it on her before she knew to plan out her reaction.

He was already headed for the door when Hermione caught up to him looking smug, "I suppose even HBP can't get all of them right then, can he?"

"Not now Hermione, we have bigger problems."

Hermione looked startled but, to her credit, took him seriously at once. Or perhaps long experience had simply taught her the danges of not underestimating the amount of trouble Harry could find himself in at seemingly innocuous times.

"Oh, is it your scar? What happened?"

Harry shook his head, "did you get a look at Sue Li in class today?" he asked, still walking quickly back to the Defense classroom. It was the lunch break so at least he wouldn't have to worry about another class coming in but he was worried that Tackley would leave before he could corner her alone.

Hermione blinked, "no. Should I have?"

"Her eyes were blank, like she had been cursed with the Imperious Curse, and didn't you hear how upset the Ravenclaws were at the start of class?" 

Hermione frowned but didn't argue. "They seemed to be in a middle of a row. I wasn't paying much attention," she admitted.

Harry only nodded his understanding because they had reached the door. "Professor Tackley!" He called out as he entered the room.

"Mr. Potter?" Tackley asked, clearly surprised to see him, it was painfully obvious that neither of them liked the other and he wouldn't normally seek her out.

"Professor, I'm sorry to bother you outside of class but Professor Dumbledore isn't here and I thought that as a former Auror you would be the best person to bring this information to," Harry said hurriedly. Harry's estimation of the woman improved slightly as her confusion melded immediately into alert wariness. "What's happened?"

"I'm not exactly sure but we were just in Potions and the Ravenclaws were all upset about something, I'm not sure what happened but it sounded like someone was stealing stuff from people."

Tackley frowned, "Potter, I would assume as a Sixth Year student and someone that I understand is looking to become an Auror in the future, would understand that to pursue a line of inquiry it takes more than idle speculation and gossip. It would seem that you're coming to me with nothing more than guesswork about a House that doesn't concern you."

Harry frowned at the hypocrisy of adults. If something big happened and they weren't told, they were upset that no one had thought to inform them but if it didn't capture their interest than anyone underage was essentially accused of tattling. "I understand that Professor," Harry said tightly, "but that's not why I'm here, I'm here because I think someone placed Sue Li under the Imperious Curse."

That captured both Tackley and Hermione's attention, both gawked at him in surprise. "What makes you think that?" Tackley finally asked.

Harry let out a slow breath, trying his best to organize his thoughts to present the best case that he could. From what he could tell, Tackley's surprise had been genuine so he at least felt confident at the moment that she had not known about the plan to Imperize a student. "Well like I said, something happened to the Ravenclaws and all of them were upset when we got to class, except Sue Li. She was moving with these precise movements and I thought it looked strange but when she turned her eyes were just...blank. Like when someone is held under the Imperious Curse."

Tackley's brow rose in surprise, or perhaps it was simply skepticism because her eyes had narrowed and she was looking at him closely. "I'm not at all sure what you mean by that Potter."

Harry blinked and looked at her unsurely. "You mean that you don't know how she could have been cursed in the school? Or why she was cursed?"

Tackley's lips pursed and she eyed him critically as though expecting to catch him in a lie. "I mean to say that there is no evidence when someone is cursed with the Imperious Curse. There is no 'tell-tale' look in their eyes as you describe- it is one of the reasons why the curse is considered Unforgivable. Not only does it strip a person of their free will in the cruelest way possible, there is no way of knowing that the person is not acting under their own command."

"What are you talking about?" Harry asked in more confusion than anger, too surprised at her response to even consider that she was lying at the moment. He glanced at Hermione but she was looking at him with an equally confused expression. Harry had seen the Imperious Curse quite a few times. Moody had performed it on each of the students in their Fourth Year class, he had seen Krum held under it as he had tortured Cedric, and he had even seen the wild effect on Crouch Senior when he had fought so hard against his insane son's control but they were both looking at him as though they had no idea what he was talking about.

Hermione looked thoughtful for a moment before a spark of realization hit her, "when you threw off the curse in Moody's class your eyes were darting back and forth really quickly. You were blinking a mile a minute. Was she trying to throw it off? Is that how you noticed it?"

Harry shook his head, "I don't think that she could. She just looked blank, like the rest of you in class did that day," he added a bit apologetically as he wasn't trying to rub his own skills in her face. But Hermione did not look offended, instead she looked confused. "I never noticed anyone else's eyes."

"There is no evidence of the Imperious Curse when it is fully effective," Tackley repeated. "It was why He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named was able to take over so many positions in the Ministry in the First War. Don't you think if it was as simple as seeing a blank expression in someone's eyes, everyone would just be given the counter-curse immediately? It caused a horror show after the war. Dozens of accused Death Eaters claimed to be under the effects of the curse and while some of the trials proved that some were lying and a few even proved that they were telling the truth, there were plenty of people that were released simply from lack of evidence."

Harry remembered that was how Lucius Malfoy had gotten away the first time- claims of being controlled. But none of this made any sense to him. If it was only Tackley saying it, he would have said that it proved his theory that she was as shady as he suspected, but Hermione was standing right next to the ex-Auror agreeing with her whole-heartedly, and not simply because she was an authority figure but because she herself had not seen what Harry had seen.

"Professor..." Harry started slowly, sure that he was losing any credibility that he might have had but he still needed to help Sue Li. There was no telling what she might be made to do. "I'm not making this up. I've seen people under the Imperious Curse before. I'm sure you must have too. Haven't you ever seen their eyes? How blank they are when their will is gone?"

Tackley was eyeing him closely, her expression hard to read. She seemed skeptical but strangely she was not being as dismissive as she generally was of his ideas. "I will look into it. From what I've come to understand from a few of the teachers around here, when you bring a problem to the attention of the staff its not something that should be glossed over but Potter... I'm warning you now that I think you're seeing something that isn't there."

Harry opened his mouth, and she raised her hands to stop his words, "I'm not saying that you're making anything up or that you're completely imagining things. My best guess? Something is happening but that doesn't mean that Unforgivable Curses are involved. Now get to lunch and listen to me carefully Potter, you did the right thing by coming to me with this, and I will take care of it. You are not going to running off conducting your own investigation and stirring things up by yourself, are we clear?"

"Absolutely Professor, that's why I came to you," Harry answered.

HPHPHP

"So what do you think we should do now?" Harry asked after he finished relaying the story to Ron at lunch and Hermione shot him a look of clear exasperation. In the wake of more pressing matters, Ron and Hermione had seemingly called a truce from the fight from the night before but there was still an underlying tension that spoke of future problems.

"Honestly? Do you have some sort of short term amnesia I don't know about? Tackley just said not go off by yourself on this!"

"And you and Ron are just my imaginary friends, then?" Harry asked her sardonically. Harry placed a hand over his heart and asked them earnestly. "When have I _ever_ gone off all by myself?"

Ron snickered, "technically? Just about all the time. I mean sure you start out with us and all but at some point along the way you leave us behind for all the really exciting, heroic bits. After all the hard, grunt work and research is over might I point out."

"Exciting, heroic bits?" Harry asked incredulously. "Tell me that you're not being serious right now."

"I'm just making the observation that you never seem to visit the library all by yourself, though I suppose to be fair you do spend an incredible amount of time obsessing about things off on your own. Seriously, you're worse than Hermione. You might as well tell now, what conspiracy theory have you managed to come up with connect this one back to Draco Malfoy."

Harry flushed with a spark of rage but refused to rise to the bait. The three of them had been arguing about this for the past month. Harry was convinced that the poisoned food that the Hufflepuffs had consumed on Halloween was actually meant for one person and was accidently eaten by several after the food had been moved from the feast, which meant that they were just sick instead of dead. Ron and Hermione had been less convinced, thinking that it was more likely that it was just a prank that someone had set up that had gone wrong. With the recent wild success of Weasley Wizarding Wheezes, there had been a sudden burst of student creativity when it came to their own homemade pranks, but most did not possess either the twins' flair for the dramatic or their skill in creating their products. Harry thought that if it had been meant as a prank than more than just a half dozen students would have been affected.

The second part of his reasoning had been harder to follow because even Harry could admit that he didn't possess any actual evidence. The only thing he had linking Malfoy to the crime at all was nothing more than a gut feeling from Harry that the Slytherin had been up to something all year. Even he knew that it was ridiculous to accuse anyone based on that alone which was why he hadn't said anything to anyone outside of Ron and Hermione and they had summarily dismissed him.

Still never let be said that Harry Potter was anything if not stubborn, "well someone had to have cast the curse."

Both of them gave him looks of exasperation. "Fine if you want to get into this, let's do it then," Ron started.

"But why do we-"

"Come on Hermione, you can't honestly think that the teachers are actually going to figure this out? I think we all know how terrible they are at getting information." Harry nodded his agreement to Ron's statement, thinking back to his own conversation with the delegates at the Summit. They might like to tell him off for getting involved in things that didn't involve him, but truth be told, nothing Harry had seen in the last 6 years had ever given him any confidence that they could handle things on their own.

Hermione huffed impatiently but didn't argue, leaving Ron to pick up his thread. "My guess? If someone did use the Imperious Curse, don't look at me like that Harry, _if_ someone used it, it looks more likely that it was another Ravenclaw than it was someone outside the House."

"Why would the Ravenclaws be cursing their own House members?" Harry asked.

"Because while you two were in potions, you missed what I saw going in the Owlry. I overheard a group of Seventh Years talking and it sounds like you were at least partly right about there being a problem in Ravenclaw. Sounds like someone tore up the place pretty good last night looking for something. Whole Common Room was a mess, moved the bookcases and everything from what they were saying. Even went through a few of the dorms so it looks like they were looking for something specific."

Harry shook his head, "but if it was someone from Ravenclaw they could have looked themselves. It sounds like whoever did it was looking for something that was in Ravenclaw Tower but they couldn't get in themselves. It makes more sense that it's someone from another House that didn't know the password but needed to get inside."

Hermione was frowning but slowly nodding along with what Harry was saying. "I'm still not sure if Sue was actually under the Imperious Curse or not, but assuming Harry is right, because quite honestly he usually he about these things," she added with an edge of exasperation mixed with a certain fondness, "then I agree that it makes more sense that it was someone from another House. It also," she added with a pointed look in Harry's direction, "means that it's more likely that someone was trying to create some kind of a distraction in the Hufflepuff room that night rather than poison someone in particular."

Harry shook his head, "but they couldn't have known that the dinner was going to be moved to the Common Rooms."

"Not necessarily. You're the one that's convinced that there are Death Eater students, in which case they would have known about the attack in advance and assumed that the Feast would be interrupted and planned it that way," Hermione argued back.

"Or it wouldn't have mattered anyway," Ron pointed out. "Whether they ate the stuff in the Great Hall or in their Common Room the result would have been the same, either way they would have wound up the Hospital Wing."

"Exactly. Which would have been enough of a distraction for someone to search the rooms."

"But search them for what?" Ron asked.

Harry frowned, something had been niggling at the back of his mind all day, ever since he had first overheard the tension of the Ravenclaw House but in that moment it struck him.

" _Not yet my lord," Snape answered quietly. "Dumbledore does not know where they are either. I have told you that he has the sword- the Potter boy found it after it had been lost year after..."_

 _Fury flashed through his veins._ ** _"After"_** _the loss of his-_

 _Words from his vision came back to him. 'The sword' Snape had said._

 _"Voldemort's been looking for something," Harry said quietly and both Ron and Hermione froze._

 _"Did you see something about it in one of your visions?" Ron asked timidly, as he always asked when talking about one of Harry's forays into Voldemort's mind._

 _Harry nodded but he was still half concentrated on trying to recall exactly what had been said. It was so difficult to concentrate on the words in the midst of his head feeling as though it was being split open. "It was the vision I had before the Summit,_ _do you remember?" he asked Ron._

 _Ron frowned in thought before saying slowly, "the one where you said Snape is Voldemort's favorite?"_

 _Harry nodded, "but Voldemort was asking Snape if they 'found it' and Snape said something about... me having the sword last."_

 _Hermione's eyes lit up with the familiar look of understanding, "do you think this has anything to do with what the Sorting Hat was talking about at the Welcoming Feast? Maybe Voldemort is trying to find all of the objects by the Founders?"_

 _Both Ron and Harry looked at one another with resigned understanding, it certainly sounded like something he would do._

 _"But he can't honestly think that these lost objects are just hidden around in the Common Room?" Ron asked skeptically. "I mean they've been lost for a thousand years, I know us Gryffindors always get the bad rap for messing with things that don't concern us but you don't think someone would have found these things just laying around Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?"_

 _Harry shook his head, "he wouldn't have been looking for the objects. He was probably looking for a clue about it though. Maybe there's something in the Slytherin Common Room that led him to the Chamber of Secrets? It's not like he could have just stumbled across it, there must have been something that he found that helped him figure it out."_

 _Hermione nodded thoughfully. "It makes sense but right now we don't really enough to do anything about it."_

 _Ron looked at her in confusion, "what do you mean? Of course we do. If Voldemort thinks there are clues in the Common Rooms, why don't we just find out ourselves."_

 _"You want us to sneak into even more Common Rooms?" Harry asked with amusement._

 _Ron rolled his eyes, "Once again Harry, you underestimate your influence as our esteemed Chosen One. We're not peaky little First Years that have to do all the grunt work ourselves anymore. We know people in Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff- why not just get some of your minions to do it for us?"_

 _"I don't have any minions Ron."_

 _"Well that's your first problem then mate. A bloke like you really deserves some minions. Get them some people to have a look for you and see if Vo-Voldemort is even on the right track."_

 _Harry blinked and Hermione grimaced as they both realized the simplicity of this answer. Over the next couple of weeks, Harry would remember this conversation as the calm before the storm._

 _HPHPHP_

It was later that night that Ron and Hermione's friendship took a severe turn for the worse. In retrospect, Harry should have seen in coming. Perhaps he had seen it coming, after all, he had known that Hermione's comment to Ron about him not getting a personal invitation to the Christmas Party had been taken too seriously, that Ron would have taken too much offense for it to be blown over but even Harry had not been prepared for the fallout that occurred.

Later Harry would wonder if there could have been a way in which he could have diffused the situation, and though he didn't think that he could have done anything to prevent their hurt feelings or perhaps even anything to prevent what happened later, he felt that he could have been a bit better at least calming Hermione down if he had all of his wits about him. However, Harry had been lulled into a false sense of security and it seemed to be just his kind of luck that Ron's ill-timed revenge on Hermione occurred when Harry was feeling more relaxed than he had been all week and Harry did not react to the situation as the potential crisis that it was.

Harry had been sitting with Ginny, trying his best to help her revise for Charms while she was doing a much better job of working her own kind of magic on him in ways that were growing increasingly difficult to ignore. Ginny was quickly becoming an addiction for him. The flowery scent of her hair, the strange soft/firmness of her body that melded together with his own, her laugh that brought a smile to his face no matter what his mood, and most of all that blazing look in her eyes when she looked at him so intensely that it sent shivers down his spine. He was in the process of being happily distracted from explaining the difference between enlarging an object and enhancing the effect of certain spells when the portrait opened and a pair that Harry had not been expecting in the least emerged.

Ron had his arms tightly around Lavender Brown, both of them looking rather rumpled- robes in slight disarray, hair tousled and unkempt- and giggling like mad. "Ron! Ron! Oh Merlin you are the funniest person that I know! I mean I always thought you were funny but... wow," Lavender cooed, more loudly than necessary, giving Harry the impression that she very much not only wanted to be overheard but wanted to be overheard by someone specific. Whether that person was actually Hermione or perhaps a guy that she was trying to make equally jealous he wasn't sure but she at least achieved the former.

Hermione had been sitting by the fire, close to Harry and Ginny but far enough for Harry to get comfortably away from dodging his homework without Hermione trying to interrupt with pointed looks and sounds of disappointment at their lack of focus.

At Lavender's pronouncement and following the deep seated kiss the two of them shared, Hermione slowly lowered the book that she was in the middle of, looking up at the couple that was now only about 5 meters away from her. Harry saw her eyes widen in surprise before they darkened and her face tightened, though Harry wasn't sure if it was anger or disappointment, perhaps a bit of both.

"I thought that we were going to work on the Transfiguration homework tonight," she settled for saying to Ron, her eyes trained so completely on him that Harry was impressed that despite the fact that Lavender and Ron were currently glued to one another's sides, it was if Hermione couldn't see her at all.

Harry had to give Ron credit, if he didn't know the redhead as well as he did, his attempt to appear completely nonchalant was almost perfect. His face didn't change expression, his shoulders didn't tighten or twitch as they did occasionally. The only hint that Ron was not completely at ease with the situation was the slight jiggling of his left leg, a trait that Harry had known him to do when either extremely nervous or extremely guilty. Once again Harry wasn't sure which one was motivating it now, but suspected it was combination of the two.

"Oh, right, well I didn't think we made definite plans or anything and we've got like three days for that. Lavender came by the Chess club meeting that we've been having and we er... got to talking," he said with a grin. Harry felt his own jaw drop slightly at that admission, the Chess Club was something that Ron had started with Ernie and he found it hard to believe that he had purposely gone after Lavender there off all places... or even allowed her to go after him if that was what had happened.

Lavender giggled, "well... _talking_ is certainly one word for it," she threw in with a conspiratorial wink in Hermione's direction that Harry felt was a bit over the top.

Most of the Common Room was ignoring the exchange but Ginny's hand had tightened on Harry's thigh and as he looked at her profile, her lips had parted slightly in surprise as she stared at them. Likewise both Dean and Seamus had paused so completely in their game of Exploding Snap that they hadn't noticed that the deck had exploded twice on them as they stared that the three of them.

Hermione pursed her lips but otherwise did not rise to Lavender's obvious bait. Harry wondered if the rather gossipy, blond was simply marking her territory by obviously goading her if she had another reason for attempting to throw this in her roommate's face. Hermione and Lavender had never been close- the two of them had too different of personalities to ever truly get along. Lavender was too flighty and concerned with looks and gossip, Hermione too practical and stuck on the rules. Nevertheless, the two of them had always managed to keep at least a civil relationship in the past and in the beginning of term when Hermione had turned to her roommates for unusual help in preparing for her date with Boot, it had seemed as though they had been closer than ever.

"Well... glad you all had a good night, but since you obviously don't need my help with the homework I might as well get on with it myself," she said tightly, heading towards her dormitory with Parvati hot on her heels, no doubt keen to hear her side before speaking to Lavender later. Weeks later Harry would feel that he should have stopped Hermione in that moment. Harry was not blind to how his two best mates felt about one another. He knew perfectly well that Ron was crazy about Hermione but was convinced that she didn't feel the same way. Ron's biggest problem was his own insecurity and until he got over it, he was never going to accept that a person he considered so wonderful could be interested in him.

On the hand, Hermione... he knew that Hermione liked Ron but with her it was more complicated. Unlike with Ron, Harry didn't think that it was lack of confidence that kept Hermione back from saying how she felt. Instead it was deeper reservations about how well they would work together as a couple. Harry wasn't exactly sure what it was. Perhaps it was Ron's lack of tact, or lack of table manners, or just general lack of maturity. Perhaps it was simply that she felt that as the bloke he should be forced to make the first move, but whatever it was, it had made things infinitely more complicated because both of them were ultimately suffering from the same problem- neither one was willing to be the person that initiated a romantic relationship. Worse, neither one ever wanted to admit that such a proposition was even on the table and because Harry had long ago agreed to some silent pact among the three of them to never discuss the developing sexual tension between them, he didn't know what he could reasonably say to her.

And so instead of going after Hermione and trying to help her, Harry stayed downstairs. If asked, he might have said it was too make sure that Ron was in fact alright with whatever was going on, but the truth was more selfish- Harry was hopelessly curious to know how this whole thing had actually happened.

Once Hermione left, Ron and Lavender happily convened in a corner of the Common Room to possibly resuscitate one another judging from the ferocity of what was passing as kissing between the two of them and Harry tried to turn his attentions back to Ginny but his attention had been shattered for the night.

"Oh I'm telling you... Ron is a bloody masterminded genius," Ginny muttered after a few moments when they both recognized that the mood was spoiled.

"At the risk of sounding like a terrible git, I'm not convinced that one needs to be a mastermind to seduce Lavender. More like ready, willing and able," Harry offered shaking his head.

Ginny laughed, "no prat, not getting with Lavender, he's finally managed to find a way to kill our mojo. Nothing makes me more reluctant to kiss anyone than witnessing...that," she said with disgust as she motioned in the direction of the aggressively writhing couple. "I swear Harry, no one does- whatever the hell it is they're doing over there- without an ulterior motive and three guesses what's highest on Ron's priority list."

Harry chuckled because he knew that Ginny wasn't being serious and yet she was still convinced that her brother was attempting to sabotage their relationship.

It wasn't for another hour, and an actually completed Charms assignment, later that Ron made his way up to the dorm and Harry followed him with the intent on finding out what the bloody hell was going on with his best mate.

Harry caught up to Ron in their dormitory just as the redhead was getting changed. "So... what the fuck was that?" Harry commented idly.

Ron stiffened slightly but he kept his voice even, "I think it was a bit obvious. Unlike with Ginny, I don't think I need to ask your permission to see Lavender. Not that it strictly mattered in the end, anyway," Ron added, clearly aiming for a fight.

Harry scoffed, "don't even think about bringing Ginny into this because that's not what I'm talking about at all. Hermione asks you to Slughorn's Christmas Party and unless Ernie is looking particularly feminine these days then I don't know what happened in the past two days."

"Fuck you, Harry," Ron said angrily, his face turning red.

Harry raised his eyebrows at the aggression in Ron's voice but didn't comment for a moment. He was suddenly feeling like he was missing something. "What happened with Ernie, Ron?"

Ron's face twitched and his left leg jiggled nervously. His ears were the usual tell-tale red and he glanced quickly at the door before his shoulders sagged, he suddenly looked strangely vulnerable. "He...he really liked me Harry."

Harry didn't know what to say that to that. Honestly speaking he always rather thought that between the two of them, he would be the one to suffer from intimacy issues after suffering under the Dursley treatment for so long. "Did...did you do something... or ..."

Ron shook his head before taking a seat on the bed, he was dressed only in pajama bottoms at the moment, having been interrupted while he was changing and he dragged a hand tiredly down his face. "It just got..." he coughed and cleared his throat. "You know how I told you that we were taking it slow?"

"Yeah," Harry said quietly, unsure where this was going. "He didn't...pressure you something?" Harry asked, growing worried.

Ron quickly shook his head, "no, no honestly Ernie didn't do anything wrong. It was me. I- It just didn't... part of it felt good, I guess but... then when we started... it mostly just felt weird most of the time," Ron explained awkwardly, blushing furiously at what he was attempting to describe. He was fiddling nervously with his hands the same way he had done when he had first told Harry about Ernie iniating the first kiss and he took a slow breath to calm down as he said quietly, "he just wanted too much from me. I didn't feel the same way and he said that we could be friends...mostly I just feel like an arse about the whole thing."

Harry nodded, seeing that Ron felt more guilty (for perhaps unintentionally leading Ernie on) than upset that the two of them didn't work out. "I don't think you did anything wrong Ron. You said from the beginning that you weren't sure about the whole thing. You were honest with him, right? In the end, it didn't feel right, that's not a crime or anything."

Ron shrugged, "I just... lately I feel like I've been all over the place... ever since Bill showed up with that Mind Healer," Ron gave a hollow laugh. "To be honest, up until that point I felt fine. I mean yeah I got angry or I was in a bad mood a few times and then the whole Ernie thing threw me for a loop at first but I never felt like there was anything _wrong_ with that before," Ron confessed.

"And now every time you feel angry or upset you think it's a sign that your parents were right and you have the same illness as your uncle?" Harry asked, understanding the feeling.

Ron shrugged, "sounds stupid when you put it like that," he muttered sullenly.

"No, it's not stupid. Not to me, of course I spent last Christmas camped out in abandoned rooms of Grimmauld Place because I was convinced that Voldemort was going to try and possess me and I was going to murder you all in your sleep and not be able to stop it. I spend a couple of nights a month feeling every emotion of everyone even standing near Voldemort when I have a vision, and feeling like I'm right there with them. I get the feeling of being out of control Ron or about worrying that you're losing you mind. But you're not sick just because you actually have feelings and honestly speaking no else thinks that either. Your parents were worried and if you ask me they overreacted but you're the one that's letting it get to you. I know Hermione suggested that you just talk to Bill's friend and make it official, I didn't think it was necessary but if its bothering you this much, why don't you talk to her?"

Ron frowned at the mention of Hermione and Harry was reminded of the other part of the discussion that he was aiming to have tonight concerning Ron's strange new choice in girlfriend. He was silent for a while, taking in everything Harry was saying. When Ron didn't speak, Harry decided he was going to have to start.

"But honestly Ron, Lavender? I mean..." Harry raised his hands in a gesture of surrender when Ron rounded on him with a furious expression. "I don't have anything against her or anything but I don't get it. You said yourself that Ernie really liked you and if you didn't feel the same way then I get it, but... well Hermione invited you to Slughorn's Christmas Party I... I was surprised that you didn't want to see how that went," he settled for saying.

Ron anger had not left his face but there was a bleakness to it that Harry didn't like seeing. "You heard what she said Harry, ' _I thought it would be nice if we were all able to go,_ '" He mocked with a high pitched voice. "Hermione didn't ask me as a date or even as a friend really- she did it because she felt sorry for me. You heard what she said Harry, ' _nice way to take your mind off things lately'_ , she was taking pity on me and nothing else. I don't need to go to some fancy party out of pity."

Harry winced and dragged his hand through his hair in frustration, sometimes being friends with both Ron and Hermione was worse than negotiating peace treaties with vampires. "Mate, I've said before Hermione doesn't always think before she speaks. I think this is the reason why women are constantly forcing blokes to do all of the asking when it comes to dating- it's bloody horrible. She was nervous and it came out all wrong."

Ron shook his head. "no Harry, trust me this time you don't know what you're talking about. Besides," he added, his posturing straightening with a look of resolve, "Hermione was right about one thing. I should take my mind off things. I'm tired of making everything so bloody complicated. Lavender is fun and she makes it easy. I'm not an idiot Harry, I know the two of us aren't going to end up together forever or going to win a place as couple of the year but... it's nice to just have some fun for a bit, yeah?"

Despite the fact that Harry rather thought this was going to end in disaster he couldn't deny that he understood the desire to make their lives less complicated. Most days Harry felt as though he was sprinting towards a finish line that he couldn't even see in the distance. School, the Ministry, Ginny, Quidditch- they weren't all bad things but it was... constant. And then of course there was the specter of Voldemort- a constant all-consuming shadow in his life. It must feel nice to be able to hit the brakes on something and know that you really couldn't screw it up too badly because it was essentially doomed from the start.

"I sure hope you're right Ron," Harry sighed, "because I don't think anything is ever that easy for us."

And Harry was going to learn in coming weeks that he was very right- nothing was easy for them.

 **A/N: Sorry for the delay, no good excuses other than sheer laziness and a lack of direction for this chapter and then when I finally got around to it a couple days ago I had a few computer problems. Most of this is set up for the next chapter and a few clues that needed to be laid for Voldemort's plans.**

 **I'm not sure if other people can see the effects of the Imperious Curse or not but it occurred to me that Harry seems to be able to spot it very quickly throughout the series. He even sees Stan Shunpike's expression in the middle of a chaotic battle and yet supposedly the same curse is being used all over the Ministry- even on Pius Thickness who was the Minister of Magic and no one outside of the Order, seems to ever notice. It seemed strange to me that these people could see their friends and co-workers with blank expressions and not know what was happening, so then I wondered- what if not everyone can actually see it? Its probably not the rare ability that I seemingly gave Harry in this story but I thought it was at least an explanation of why it was so hard to know who was actually under the curse or not.**

 **I'm attempting to pick up the pace slightly since I was 26 chapters deep and it was only Halloween (though in my defense summer was long) but part of this story is building up Harry's role in both the war and in the school. I know there seem to a lot of loose ends floating around but they will connect.**

 **Thanks for all your comments about the pairings in the story. I've seen a lot of anti-Ron/Hermione people and I'll be honest, I actually really like them together. Don't get me wrong I can see why they would be a disaster together in most cases and the people who don't like them, I can more than understand the reasons but I always kinda felt that they were the exception to the rule. That and the fact that I hate the idea of Hermione and Harry together so I always feel that it's the better option. That being said... I haven't completely made up my mind about putting them together or not. It was my original intention when I started the story but as I get further along I'm not as sure. It certainly wouldn't be for a while if it ever happened at all but in the upcoming chapters I have some characters really taking a real emotional beating (fair warning) and I'm just not sure yet if this is going to pull them together or tear them apart. Either way I want it to feel right for the story but I know some people have been wondering so I thought I would give the heads up.**


	28. Yuletide Surprises

**Chapter 28: Yuletide Surprises**

"Have a biscuit then Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall offered him as he took a seat in her office after class.

"Thank you professor," Harry accepted, knowing better than to even think of refusing.

"Right then, I wanted to speak with you about your suspicions concerning Sue Li, she was checked for the Imperious and no such curse was found to be controlling her and before you ask, she was also checked for any and all spells or potions that would have created the same affect."

"But that's impossible! I know what I saw professor," Harry argued, frustrated that his lead had turned into nothing when he was positive of what he had seen.

McGonagall pursed her lips before saying quietly, "honestly Potter, I'm inclined to believe you. I know what Aurora told you, that it's not possible to see evidence of the Imperious Curse with the naked eye, but the truth is, it's difficult and somewhat rare nowadays, but not impossible. Not even highly unlikely. Aurora knows that people possess the ability- either from careful observation of others or simple magical adeptness we've never been quite sure- but she is always skeptical of people, without already having a firm reputation for it, announcing they have seen it. I, however," and here McGonagall's mouth twitched slightly, "know firsthand the perils of ever underestimating your word when it comes to strange or especially dangerous situations."

Harry gave her a sheepish look but could not help but feel a slight smugness that she was finally listening to him after all these years.

"It is possible that that Miss Li had been cursed, asked to perform whatever task was needed of her and subsequently released from the curse, in which case there is no way of detecting whether or not someone had been under the influence of the curse at a previous time," McGonagall went on to explain.

Harry nodded, once again thinking back to the first Death Eater trials. If there had been a way of knowing who had been under the curse, than people like Lucius Malfoy never could have claimed it as a defense.

"So what do we do now?" Harry asked.

" _We_ do not do anything, Potter. I shouldn't even be informing you of this but I find myself impressed with your decision to actually come to a teacher about something for a change and this is my way of... encouraging that good behavior. As for the staff... Professor Dumbledore has of course been informed as well as all of the Heads of House to be on the look out for any strange behavior and to be vigilant of any messages going in or out of the castle."

Harry nodded hesitating slightly before asking, "Do you think this is related to what happened to the Hufflepuffs the night of Halloween?"

McGonagall's eyebrows rose before shook her head slightly, "Why I am even surprised? I believe you chose well with a career as an Auror, Potter. I daresay you would go bored without the intrigue if you chose anything else," she commented drily. "But to answer your question, the correlation between the two of events have been discussed but at this point there is no clear reason to assume that it was the same person. I know that you have grown used to finding the worst case scenario over the years, but I would remind you that in a large school there is always someone up to something but more often than not, those people are up to more mischief than mayhem, do you understand?"

Harry nodded. With no reason to link the two crimes, McGonagall was also working off the assumption that the Hufflepuffs were poisoned in a prank gone wrong.

"Now then," McGonagall's tone shifted and Harry could see that she had effectively closed the discussion for another topic, one that she moved to with uncharacteristic hesitancy. "I saw that you have not signed the list of students staying in the school for the winter holidays. Harry... I hope that you are not going back to your relatives," she stated plainly.

Harry blinked for a moment, caught off guard by the suddenness of the topic change before smiling slightly at his Head of House for her concern. "No professor, I wouldn't imagine that to be a happy Christmas for me or the Dursleys. Mrs. Weasley invited me to stay with them for the break which will be brillaint but I think I actually might have to spend a day or two with Sn- Professor Snape to work out a few things with the Vampires."

There was a loosening of tension around McGonagall's eyes and Harry started slightly as he realized how nervous she actually had been for him. He smiled slightly at the knowledge that she felt more comfortable with him walking into a potentially warring vampire clan than stepping foot back on Privet Drive. Then again, Harry didn't think that anyone outside of the clan, himself, or Snape knew how bad things had gotten for the Clan.

"Good, I'm glad that you'll be able to spend the holidays amongst real family Harry."

Harry blinked at her words before smiling brightly, "I do too professor, thank you. Er... are you going to be able to see your niece at all?" he asked remembering that in the start of term she had mentioned visiting her.

McGonagall's eyes widened in slight surprise before softening as she smiled at him, "actually I'll be seeing her and my sister for Christmas Eve for a few hours, it's something I'm looking forward to." Harry had never given much thought to the fact that his teachers all lived in a castle ten months out of the year surrounded by students without any family of their own. He thought it must be very lonely. After years of suffering through the Dursleys, or else simply missing his real family Harry desperately desired his own wife and kids in the future and could not imagine giving those things up.

"I'm glad that you'll get to see them."

"Thank you Mr. Potter, I hope you have a happy Christmas indeed... I have a terrible feeling that this might be last good Christmas that any of us will have for quite a while and I've learned long ago to savor such moments when I can."

Harry's smile faded but he nodded at the truth in her words, "I agree professor."

HPHPHP

Harry smoothed down his new dress robes and for the first time in his life, truly admired his own reflection in the mirror. Harry had to admit that for all of the annoyances Lavender's new 'relationship' with Ron had caused in his life in the past couple of weeks, she had at least given him solid advice when it came to getting ready for the party. She had given him a tub of Sleekeazy and even shown him out to use it so that for once his hair was styled and tame. The green and silver robes, that every single one of his dormmates had heckled him for over the Slytherin colors, were pressed and well-tailored. And while he had not even considered shoes as part of the outfit, Lavender had come through once again by ensuring that he had ordered a pair of dress shoes to come in time for the party.

The best part was that Harry and Ginny wouldn't be trapped at the party with a bunch of suck-up Slug Club members alone. As it turned out Lavender's parents were old friends of the professor and she too had scored an invitation and had delighted invited Ron to accompany her. Ron had a point of telling this to Hermione one evening, ensuring that she was fully aware that Lavender had 'asked him because she wanted to'. Luckily, Lavender had also been quick to offer her help in sorting out Ron's outfit. The twins had, at Harry's secret condition for his TriWizard money, bought Ron new dress robes the year before but the tall red-head had already grown out of them. However, while Lavender would never win accolades for her stellar class performance or grasp of magical theory, she had made sure to master every mending, altering and sewing charm known to man and had lengthened the gowns to professional standards.

Harry felt a slight pang as several people- boys, girls and couples- took photos of themselves to send home and Harry was once again reminded that he had no one to show such a photo to, nor anyone to ask how the night had gone.

But all of those old worries were thrown out of his mind the moment he saw Ginny, who looking simply magnificent. She had forgone traditional wizarding robes and instead went with a muggle dress. She had confided to him ahead of time that she had borrowed the dress from her muggleborn roommate that had brought a few along for just such an occasion. It appeared that Ginny too had studied tailoring charms for the dress fit her perfectly and Harry noted that by either chance or magic, the color matched his own robes exactly. Her hair was styled loosely, with curls flowing down her shoulders just as he liked it rather than the ornate up-do styles that most of the other girls had used for night.

"You look amazing," Harry told, greeting her with a kiss that sent the usual warm tendrils down his spine.

"Well I can't have my date upstaging me. Though personally I like when your hair is all over the place. It reminds me of your personality- wild and untamed," she teased him.

"Just for tonight let's hope everything is as tame as possible," Harry commented, noting idly how most teenagers would probably be saying the opposite when going to a party. But then a 'wild' night had very different connotations for him and while he wouldn't mind a rather tipsy and possibly flirtatious Ginny, he would very much rather avoid further death and destruction.

"Shall we?" he asked, offering her his arm.

Ginny grinned at him and came with him excitedly. The party was being held in a classroom in the dungeons, apparently it was near where Slughorn's old office had been when he had been Potions Master and upon entering Harry saw quickly that something had been done to enlarge the room. The party consisted of mostly Sixth and Seventh Year students, a few kids from well-connected families in Fifth Year had also warranted an invite as well as several people that Slughorn had invited for the evening.

Ginny was star struck when she met Gwenog Jones from the HolyHead Harpies and although Harry had known that Ginny had always had idle aspirations of playing professional Quidditch, for the first time she dropped all pretense of 'maybe being able to play someday' and revealed her true heartfelt desire to play for the all-female team that she idolized. Harry found himself swept up in her excitement. Ever since he had heard the words of the prophesy in Dumbledore's office, there had been a part of him that had been certain that he would never have a real future in the Wizarding World. Voldemort was stronger, he was more powerful, he had more allies, and most of all he was more experienced. It seemed absurd to Harry that he could ever beat him. He would fight because to Harry there was no other option but as much as spoke of a future as an Auror, it seemed more like a dream than a goal. But standing beside Ginny as her eyes sparkled as she retold the riveting tale of the last Harpies game as though she had been there personally, Harry could see it all. He and Ginny. Going to her games and watching her flying professionally, the two of them settling down and starting a real family for the first time.

He was so captivated by his own date that he nearly missed the stir that was being caused by the entrance of the newest couple to arrive. It was only when Ginny herself nudged him with a whispered, "did you know about this?" that he finally looked up.

Hermione had just come in with Cormac McLaggen. Harry blinked in surprise. McLaggen had been a needling thorn in his side all term. Under different circumstances, Harry might have actually taken up a proper fight with the arrogant Seventh Year but truth be told the older boy was too far down on his list priorities to care about. Still to see his best friend on his arm for the night was not a comforting image.

He took Ginny's hand and pulled her over to greet the couple. He noted that McLaggen was also wearing extremely expensive, and well-tailored robes and from the way he moved it was clear that he wanted everyone to know it. Hermione on the other hand was looking... hot. There was really no other way to describe her. Harry wasn't sure where his pragmatic and responsible friend had gotten such a low-cut and form-fitting dress but he couldn't deny that Hermione had planned her revenge on Ron well. He considered Hermione to be the closest thing to a sister that he would ever have but with that dress... it was hard to remember that this was the same friend that he usually saw in bulky sweaters or ink-stained robes.

"Hermione, you were certainly keeping this a surprise," Harry commented drily to her. Hermione glanced at McLaggen but he was currently talking to one of his mates and ignoring his date for the time being. "Yes well," Hermione answered pursing her lips slightly as her eyes scanned the room, finally landing on Ron who was currently in the corner with Lavender, not-so-inconspicuously pouring Firewhiskey into their punch cups, "I rather thought that he might bother Ronald the most. Two can play at his game. _Find myself a real date_ ," she grumbled.

Harry inwardly marveled at the lengths girls would go to get back at someone who had wronged them and vowed to thread carefully with Ginny.

"Hermione you look amazing, my idiot brother is going to lose his mind," Ginny giggled conspiratorially. "But you should be careful," she warned suddenly turning serious, "this is a dangerous game you're playing and I hope you know that these things tend to take on a life of their own."

Hermione shrugged defensively but Harry didn't catch the next part of what she said. Slughorn had just made an appearance and Harry knew that he needed to seize his chance. "Gin, I'm sorry I have something I need to take care of, I'll be back soon. I promise," he assured her hurriedly. Ginny started to protest but Harry had already moved. He had been thinking about his plan for a week. He needed to get Slughorn to give up information that he had gone out of his way to conceal for over half a century and for him to do that, Harry needed to resort to some of what he referred to as Dursley-rules. Harry might have hated every moment he had stayed with his relatives but he couldn't deny that he had learned some much needed survival skills. There were some, like his perseverance and independence, that he used all the times, while others, such as a need to manipulate opponent when you were at a disadvantage he had let fall to the wayside in his years at Hogwarts.

Harry had thought carefully about what he had seen in the memory that Dumbledore had shown him in his office. When he had first seen it, he had been carefully watching a young Tom Riddle, seeing the boy that would grow into the mass murderer. A boy that was roughly the same age as Harry at that point and yet carried himself so very differently, a boy who already wore the ring that signified the fact that he had already murdered his birth father while still a student. But when he thought back on it, he concentrated on what he needed to know about a younger _Slughorn_. A man that was flattered easily with gifts and praise and took more stock in his own creature comforts than on being a good role model for his students.

Harry waved largely at Ron who nodded quickly and pulled Lavender along with him into position, if need be. When he had first asked Ron for his help he had known that his best friend would not let him down, what he had been unprepared for was the enthusiastic and strangely unquestioned assistance of Lavender as well. Perhaps Ron was onto something about his minions idea.

"Professor Slughorn," Harry called out, "I was hoping to get a moment to talk to you."

Slughorn turned from his conversation with a short man with rather long, stringy hair that, very much like Slughorn was quite large around the middle. Despite his rather distinctive appearance, Harry didn't recognize him. The man was expensively dressed but the affect was ruined by two large stains on his chest and stomach and a general look of unkemptness about the wrinkled state of his robes however, though the man obviously paid little to no attention to his personal appearance his sharp eyes seemed to take in everything that was going on. "Harry! My boy, I'm so delighted that you could make it tonight. Have you had the chance to meet Gavin? Gavin Thorton is the owner and publisher of the _Daily Prophet_."

Harry's eyes widened at his information but tried to pass it off as nonchalance. "No sir but I imagine that you're better acquainted with me than I am with you given some of your articles."

"Perils of public life Mr. Potter though I readily admit that you are nothing if not good for business," Gavin admitted sticking out his hand, Harry was sure to grip firmly, bearing down slightly.

Harry was glad to see that he had guessed right in that Slughorn was serving some light alcohol at the party for his overaged guests, while there was no Firewhiskey, there was wine and mead and judging from the redness of his face, Slughorn was a bit of a lightweight. He casually threw his arm around Harry and held him there as he continued to speak to Thorton. "I have been after this young man for weeks but he he's been playing hard to get. Constantly busy of course, I'm sure you know yourself from the _Prophet_ just how integral's been at the Ministry."

"And I'm sorry that I've been so busy. I'm just glad that you were so persistent sir, this is the best spread I've seen here at Hogwarts. Even puts the Yule Ball that we had a couple of years ago to shame."

"Oh Harry false flattery never works... but who am I kidding I adore it," Slughorn laughed robustly.

"Actually sir," Harry grinned, "coming from me, I'm being completely sincere. I hated the Yule Ball but I think that had more to do with being forced into a Tournament that I never entered, forced to dance in front of the school when I have two left feet and just generally being 14."

Slughorn and Thorton were now both laughing and Harry chuckled at himself remembering how self-conscious he had been in Fourth Year. It had only been two years since that disastrous night but it all seemed so long ago. How scared he had been about asking Cho, how much he had dreaded having to open the ball, how much every newspaper headline with his name on it had bothered him, but here he was now- coming to a party with a girl that he crazy about and honestly not caring in the slightest what people were looking his way or not.

"Professor-"

"Ah well Harry, technically I've never been your professor, I'm only at Hogwarts this year as a guest. I would very much appreciate it if you called me Horace."

Bingo. And that was just the opening that Harry had needed.

"Well then... Horace, I wanted to make up for all the times that I had to put you off and I was wondering if you might just be interested in seeing something rather unusual."

Slughorn blinked in surprise but nodded agreeably, Gavin Thorton looked as though his own Christmas had come early but Harry could not risk this private conversation being overheard, luckily he had planned for such a problem. He scratched the back of his head and Lavender stumbled forward, spilling her drink onto Thorton.

"Oh I so very sorry, oh Merlin, Ron do you have any idea who this is?"

"Oh no I don't think that I do, Lav?"

Harry used the distraction created by his friends to pull Slughorn out into the corridor, subtly using a spell that he had been practicing for three days, a non-verbal refilling spell, on his drink. Harry was going to use every advantage that he possibly could. If he tipped his hand too early and Slughorn knew that he was after the memory, he might never get a second chance at this.

"I had heard that you were the former Head of Slytherin, what was it like back then?"

"Oh those were some of my fondest memories. Leading such a fine and noble House, instilling and nurturing the qualities that lead to success. I know as a proud Gryffindor you must look poorly on that!" Slughorn laughed. "Oh I take no offense! Your mother used to be very cheeky with me whenever I would beg her to switch over to the house of snakes."

"That's right," Harry said, more genuinely than he had been up until that point, "you said that you remembered my mother."

"My dear boy, your mother was my favorite student in 40 years of teaching! Clever, cheeky, beautiful and a kindness about her that few could ever equal. Lily was a fine woman and all other things aside about you, my boy, she would be very proud of the son that she never got to see grow up."

Harry blinked, unexpectedly taken aback by emotion and feeling strangely guilty at the manipulation that he still needed to do. "Thank you sir, I don't know if you realize how much that means to me to have you say that. However, the reason why I bring up Slytherin house is I'm not sure if you had heard about a particular ability that I have. I know it caused quite a sensation in the papers but- no offense to your friend of course- they have not always been truthful when it comes to me. That being said... the rumor about me being a parselmouth is true."

Slughorn blinked, momentary surprised, fear flashing quickly across his features only to be replaced by fascination. "How extraordinary," he breathed thoughtfully. "I apologize if my reaction upset you but I am an old man and prejudices have a way of dying hard indeed."

"That's alright sir your reaction was far more mild than many. But I rather thought that as a former Head of Slytherin you might be interested in seeing the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets?"

For a moment Harry was quite concerned that the older man had simply stopped breathing. Slughorn was pale, his fingers trembling slightly, and it was quite fortunate that there was a wall next to him because Harry was not sure if he would have been able to hold up a man at least five stone heavier than himself.

"You cannot be serious! It's impossible! No one has ever found it!"

"I promise you sir that it is not a legend or a myth. Slytherin did leave a chamber behind but I was not the first person to find it. If you would like to see the entrance, I can show it to you."

Naturally Slughorn could not be denied. The chamber was legendary, particularly among Slytherins and he would never pass up such a tempting treat.

Harry led him towards the girl's bathroom, speaking only of his mother for the moment, allowing Slughorn to keep sipping on his drink, hoping that he had yet to notice that it should have been long empty at this point. While Harry's intention in switching topics had been to keep him distracted before finally asking for the right information, but Harry found that he was truly touched by some of things that his mother's old professor had to say about her. He found himself telling the man about his mother's journals and her own notes in the text, thrilled that there was someone out there who had appreciated her. He was grateful that there was someone that truly missed _Lily_ , not for being the mother of the Boy-Who-Lived but for the person that she had always been and it was a gift that someone knew the real Lily Potter, even Harry missed more the idea of a mother and the hopes of what she might have been like rather than the woman herself.

But Lily Potter had been a real woman. She had been a funny, slightly cheeky student that was intensely loyal to her friends and proud of her House. She had been brilliant in potions but preferred working with a wand on Charms and struggled a bit with Transfiguration even though she wound up with good marks. She had possessed a quick temper but rarely seemed to hold a grudge- that was the woman that Slughorn described and Harry glad had someone that spoke of her. Thus far, for both better and worse, Harry had only managed to learn about his father. He wondered, idly, why his own Head of House had never shared any stories with him for she had known them perhaps better than any of the other teachers, then had to admit to himself that he had never asked her to.

At long last they had reached their destination and Harry grimaced apologetically, "I know it's not the most orthodox place... my best guess was that this wasn't always a bathroom."

Slughorn appeared more bemused than disgusted by the location of the secret chamber. "I imagine there is quite a good story as to why you were able to discover this here of all places."

"Actually truth be told, it's probably even more interesting than whatever you're imagining," Harry told him with a wry grin.

Slughorn cackled wildly, "oh from you my boy, I have no doubt that you exceed my wildest imagination."

Harry hissed at the opening, causing SLughorn to jump slightly at the unnatural sound, and sure enough the chamber revealed itself. "I wasn't the first person to find it," he repeatedly softly. "You were here when it was last opened. You've seen what the monster could do. It was a basilisk," he added, almost off-hand. "Controlled by the Heir of Slytherin. Controlled by Tom Riddle."

Harry gazed at Slughorn and saw him jump at the name as though he had said the name Voldemort instead. "Riddle tricked the Headmaster, Dippet, into thinking that not only was it Hagrid that opened the chamber, but that he had been the one to _stop_ all the attacks. He managed a Special Award to the school for committing murder. He fooled a lot of people, professor. And I heard that he once fooled you too."

Slughorn eyes were large and fearful, he was shaking his head as though he could scarcely believe what Barry was telling him. "No. No I never would have-"

"You made a mistake once because Tom Riddle seemed to be the perfect student. Whatever you told him, whatever information you gave him, he was the one that used it. Sir... quite honestly I don't care much about what happened 50 years ago, but I need to care about how to stop him now. You've seen what the _Prophet_ had been saying about me. And I told you once already that their rumors are not always wrong."

Slughorn swallowed thickly, face stark white. "You mean...you mean to say...it's true?"

Harry nodded solemnly and Slughorn sagged, "I am immeasurably sorry my boy. For the fate that you've been given, for the mistakes that I've made, for the mistakes our world has made." Slughorn used his wand to withdraw the memory, the real memory. "I want to give you this as Lily's son but I beg you... please don't think too badly of me."

 **Interlude: Ravings from a Ravenclaw**

Luna Lovegood was having a particularly odd week in her opinion. It wasn't that anything was glaring strange or something of great importance had happened and yet there was a strange feeling in the air. Luna noted to herself that no one else seemed to have taken notice of this but she had grown rather used to knowing that her normally clever Housemates did not see things as she did.

It had started in Divination, the Fifth Years were being taught this year by Professor Trawlaney, who was unfortunately very sad indeed that her classes were being split with a centaur. Luna herself wished that instead of trading off grade levels they could split all of the classes. She had the class two days a week and thought it would be delightful to have two different perspectives. In fact Luna very much wished that all of the classes were taught in that fashion. She loved her classes and her teachers but they had a certain style and way of doing things and mummy had always warned her about the dangers of thinking that magic had to be done in only one way.

Pandora Lovegood had been one of the greatest independent researchers that the Department of Mysteries had ever had. She had once told Luna that she had been offered the position of an Unspeakable but she had declined, saying that she didn't think it would be a good idea to allow the Ministry to control her mind as they did to all Ministry employees. Instead she did her experiments on her own, and gave them information only when she felt that it wouldn't be too dangerous to share with other people. She had used her own materials and a workshop in their home to develop new spells, or else test what was deemed 'the limits of spell capacity' because Pandora was quite certain that given the right circumstances that nothing was beyond the capacity of magic. The Impossible was simply what people had yet to discover.

Pandora and Xenophilius had fallen in love over their shared love for learning new things, finding new creatures, or creating new spells. They believed that man's greatest purpose was to first question and then to try and answer all of the mysteries of the universe and it was with a sense of adventure and wonderment that they had instilled this same desire for knowledge in their only daughter.

Luna took great pride in being a Ravenclaw. A House that had been built to challenge the status quo and push the boundaries of what wizards thought that they were once capable of doing. However, there were times when Luna admitted that she grew frustrated with her Housemates, who were more often than not more concerned with getting good grades than with actually learning the material. Her roommates had laughed at her when she had told them her idea of alternating every class between teachers so that they could learn twice the amount of information. Her Housemates claimed that with two different teachers grading essays or setting different expectations there would be no way to properly satisfy them both, making it harder to get an O in the class. Luna had argued that OWL standards were merely invented by the Ministry as a means of tracking potentially powerful or gifted wizards either for recruitment into their secret army or else using as subjects of study by the Unspeakables so they shouldn't matter at all. Instead it was learning the material that should be what mattered the most.

They had not agreed with her, instead, not for the first time, they had teased her and told her that she should never have been made a Ravenclaw. A strange sentiment in Luna's opinion since it was Rowena Ravanclaw herself that had said ' _wit_ _ **beyond measure**_ _is man's greatest treasure.'_ Luna didn't think that Rowena would have cared very much what grades they received as long as they had walked away with more knowledge than when they had first started.

But regardless of how Luna would have liked to have divided up the classes or how their grades would have been affected, it did very much grieve her that one of her favorite professors was so upset this year. Trelawney had a frankness about her predictions that was refreshing to Luna as had she very much wished that she had the same gift for sight that her professor- who saw things so easily and frequently- had.

They had been working on a unit with crystal balls. Now that they were in OWL level they were working on focusing on specific people or their predictions rather than simple 'passive gazing' which they had done in the past, where they did not have a subject in mind but allowed any future event to come to them. Trelawney was unwell once again but when she had come to gaze into Carly Brocklehurst's crystal ball she had frozen, her eyes suddenly clear and sharp instead of the dull, glaze they had been suffering under all term. "I think that's enough for the day everyone, I think it best if we end things now. Please be sure to complete your essays on what you saw today." The class had only been going on for all of 15 minutes.

Once they had descended the trapped door and started on their way down from North Tower a few people asked the most obvious question, "who were you trying to see?"

Carly shrugged, "well I was trying to look at Harry Potter, wasn't I? I mean everyone's been going on about he's the Chosen One, aren't you all curious?"

"What did you see?"

Carly shook her head, "don't be stupid, no ever sees anything in those balls. Trelawney's just gone off her nut again," she said and once again several people laughed. Luna looked thoughtfully up at the door where she knew the professor still was, wondering what she had seen. There had been very few times that Luna had ever seen anything in her own ball and Luna was disappointed that despite Trelawney's claims that she had an 'open aura', she was not very gifted in the subject. She had seen figures and a passing shade but none of the detail that their professor shared with them during each and every class. Luna felt that it was such a terrible shame that such a gifted and talented seer was not appreciated by her students.

The week only got stranger when the Ravenclaws came back to their Tower to find it clearly ransacked as though someone was looking for something. Luna had overhead quite a few fights in which friends were accusing one another of going through their things and Luna felt bad for them since she knew more than most how upsetting it could be to come back and find your things missing. She knew that her Housemates were just having a bit of fun at her expense and generally did not let it bother her but it was still rather inconvenient, especially at the end of term.

She felt that there must be quite the infestation of Wrackspruts because she noticed that while many people were acting out of sorts, Sue Li in particular was looking unlike herself. She wore a blank expression and had not reacted much when the rest of House was so clearly distraught. Luna had tried to talk to her but they were headed in different directions for their classes and by the time they had returned for the evening, the Wrackspruts must have left her alone because she had returned to usual friendly if rather shy self.

Ravenclaw Tower had been tense throughout the week but despite the through searching, nothing seemed to have actually been missing and eventually everyone agreed that it was a rather poor joke allowed the matter to drop. Luna herself found this to be a very strange decision- Ravenclaws generally loved puzzles, and what greater puzzle than trying to figure out what it was that someone was looking for in Ravenclaw Tower that the culprit had been unable to find. Was is valuable? Perhaps they thought someone had inherited the Lost Diadem and were searching for the knowledge. However, no one else seemed to think that it was of any great importance... not with end of term exams taking places before the holiday at least. Luna rather thought that perhaps that might have been the reason why someone had decided to search the Tower at that time in first place...

And now there was the party that she was attending because Neville Longbottom had asked her this morning after they had run into each other outside of the greenhouses. She liked Neville very much. He was nice to her and had even looked for her specifically when they had taken the train together. No one had ever specifically looked for Luna before and when he had told that he had looked in four compartments to find her she had been very pleased indeed. In the past couple of months Neville had been very busy with his schoolwork and she had seen him quite a few times either headed to the Owlery or else coming back with letters from home and she very much hoped everything was alright with his grandmother, who had been so nice that she had even written to Luna over the summer just to congratulate her on going to the Ministry to fight against He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named and his Death Eaters and asking to write with her own details about the incident.

Seeing Neville now for the first time in quite a while for an extended period she wondered if he ahd been bothered by quite a few wrackspruts over the last few months. While he smiled at her and was his same kind self, there was also something... very odd about him. But then, Luna thought, it was the week for odd things so it made sense that she would notice it now of all times.

Luna very much missed the D.A., it had been the closest she had come to having friends. But at least now she had Ginny who would study with her in the library and now that she was spending her time with Harry Potter, he would come sometimes as well. When she had seen Neville at the greenhouses, he had asked her how she had been doing, which was not a question she got asked often but she did not think that it was part of her 'odd' week. Neville was just a very friendly boy after all. When she had confessed that she been rather lonely without the D.A. Neville seemed to understand and then asked if she wanted to go a party with her. AS FRIENDS. It was the loveliest invitation to be able to go to a real party as someone's friend and Luna was delighted to be able to wear her silver spangled robes that were only used for occasions that caused great excitement.

Just after her ninth birthday Luna's mother had taught her that a real lady had to dress carefully for the meaning behind the events she attended. Black was for sadness. Yellow for joy and hopefulness. Red for passion and lust. Silver for excitement. As she arrived at the party, she worried that not everyone was quite as excited as she was to be there as she was since she did not see very much silver on the other guests and thought that to be quite a shame since there was so little to be excited about these days. However, she had seen Harry wearing silver trim so perhaps he was just a bit excited. That was very nice because Harry was not usually a very excited person though he certainly seemed excited these days whenever he was talking to Ginny.

Luna spent a few minutes greeting a few of Neville's friends before noticing that Professor Slughorn seemed to be leaving with Harry Potter which she found odd considering he was the one throwing the party and after all the trouble he had gone through it seemed a shame to miss it. She noticed that Ginny did not look very happy either and thought she was unhappy that Harry had not taken her with him.

She caught sight of Ron Weasley and Lavender Brown talking very quickly to a man that had the look of someone who had wrestled with a nargle and lost rather badly. Considering that one of them seemed to have spilled a drink on him, she felt that he was having a very bad day indeed.

Luna guided Neville over to her Gryffindor friend, "are you alright Ginny?"

Ginny frowned before brightening at the sight of her two friends. "Yeah, I'm fine, Harry's just... being Harry again," she said with frustration which Luna found peculiar.

"But I thought that you liked that he was Harry? Did you want him to be someone else?" Both Ginny and Neville looked surprised by this question before glancing at one another, exchanging a look that they both seemed to understand but Luna was not quite sure that she did.

"Harry's great," Neville said, his tone hesitant and Luna thought that he was more trying to remind himself of this fact than tell her, "really, he is. It's just... sometimes it's a bit hard always being in the shadows... and Harry casts a hell of shadow."

"And he doesn't do much to help you get out of them either," Ginny muttered clearly still upset with Harry leaving.

"What did Harry want with Slughorn?" Neville asked, his eyes curiously on the door that they had both walked out of.

Ginny shook her head, her frown deepening, "that is one of the many mysteries that are too important for Harry to tell me about," she answered, her tone sharp, causing Neville to raise his eyebrows and Luna to look at her friend with concern. While she had seen that Ginny had been unhappy with Harry leaving her at the party, she didn't think either of them had realized the extent of her anger at the situation.

They spent the next half hour talking about school and what they planned to do over break. Luna was looking forward to seeing her father and she was most confident that Cassius Newton would come back with evidence of his Crumple-Horned Snoracks since they were known to enjoy the lights set out for Yule. Neville was looking forward to seeing his grandmother, who Luna was pleased to hear was doing quite well, because she had working on some old family business and Neville was going to be able to help once he was on school holiday.

Harry Potter came back after a while and he was looking distinctly happy. Relieved was perhaps an even word, mixed with... proud. He walked over to Ginny's side and pulled her towards him, kissing he in greeting. Ginny stiffened and pulled back. "Finished with everything are you?"

Harry's good mood dimmed quickly but for once Luna did not think that there were any creatures affecting him. "Finished with everything that I have to do, and now I very much want to get to part where I spend time with people that I want to spend time with. I told you that I needed to talk to Slughorn," he seemed to remind her.

"Yes you did, you just refused to tell me why."

Harry's face tightened, "It's not that I don't want to tell you Gin, honestly. Its that I can't. This is... I promised Dumbledore. I know that you hate not what's going on, I understand- better than anyone else can understand, I do. But I'm telling you that I can't tell you. If it was something that had anything even remotely to do with you, I would but it doesn't it."

Ginny was about to retort to that statement when they were interrupted by a rather unusually disheveled Hermione, trying very hard to make her face less red.

"Are you alight Hermione?" Neville asked her.

Hermione had been looking back at Ron Weasley and Lavender Brown who seemed to fused themselves together rather uncomfortably judging from just how they were sitting in the armchair in the corner, before looking up, "oh fine. I'm fine I just escaped- er left Cormac that is. Under the mistletoe," she added and her disheveled appearance was finally explained. She had warned Harry only last year that nargles hid in mistletoe, perhaps that was he had pulled Slughorn out in the hall, to warn him as well. Apparently they hadn't been in time to stop them.

"Serves you right," Harry told her, his usually very nice voice rather cold.

"Don't start Harry."

"Hermione... you're better than this. A lot better than this. This whole thing has become ridiculous-"

"Yes well as much I appreciate your unsolicited opinion Harry, I'm not particularly in the mood to be told off right now." She turned to Ginny and muttered, "for the record when he invariably deserves his own taste of his medicine for doing... whatever it is that passes for logic among men, do yourself a favor and don't bite off your nose to spite your face. This was..." Hermione shivered as though an invisible ghost had passed through her, "probably the worst idea I've ever had."

"Well Hermione," Neville said raising his drink towards her in faux salute, "I suppose everyone is due for one every now and then."

Hermione eventually left to deal with her date, presumably after he had gotten away from the infested mistletoe, and Harry and Ginny seemed to have made up reasonably well from their fight. Luna returned that night to Ravenclaw Tower having enjoyed her very first party very much indeed.

 **End of Interlude**

Harry had spent the early hours of the morning going over the contents of the memory that he had recovered from Slughorn before he was due to leave for the Burrow. Horcruxes. He didn't have to simply kill Voldemort, he needed to kill the bastard in seven bloody pieces. Harry felt as though the air was gone from his lungs, his legs were no longer solid beneath him. He had finished packing his things in a daze, not paying attention to the post-party discussions his dormmates were having and ignoring questions about what he was planning to do over the break. Seamus was complaining loudly about having to go and see him mum's sister in Ireland who he disagreed on just about everything with. Dean was looking forward to seeing his muggle girlfriend who he was still with despite the distance and the obvious difficulties with communicating with a muggle that was not aware of the magical world. Neville mentioned something about a special trip with his grandmother but Harry couldn't grasp the details with Dumbledore's words pounding in his head. _Seven is the most powerful magical number...seven pieces to secure immortality... If a Horcrux is made, a person cannot truly die..._

The strangest part was the uncomfortable feeling of...familiarity that Harry had gotten when he had first heard the word. It was though it was something he had known but had forgotten even though as Dumbledore explained what a Horcrux actually entailed, not only did Harry know for a fact that he had never heard of such dark magic, he was repulsed by the very idea of it. It reminded him of meeting Firenze in the forest his First Year when the centaur had explained to him what it meant to drink the blood of a unicorn " _the blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you are an inch from death, but at a terrible price...you will have but a half-life, a cursed life, from the moment the blood touches your lips_." Even at eleven the idea had horrified him but he knew now that Voldemort had already cursed himself.

" _I was ripped from my body, less than a spirit, less than the meanest ghost, but I was still alive_."

And that had been truly all that Voldemort had cared about that night that he had returned. He said that it had been pain beyond all imagining. That he had been forced into possessing rats and other small creatures just to survive and yet Voldemort had still preferred that to the idea of dying.

Harry's own thoughts drifted to that dream-like vision he had had over the summer. How happy his parents had been there, how Sirius had seemed to shed himself of the years of misery and pain the moment he had gotten there, and how desperately a part of him had wanted to remain in by that sunny lakeside with his family. Harry very much liked his life at the moment. His friends, Ginny, even the day to day struggles of school and the excitement of Quidditch were all things that he would not give up without a fight. His parents had been right on that score, he would never give up but more than importantly he didn't want to give up. However, if the worst happened and he lost his life in the war, he would gladly go back to a place of peace and contentment rather than go to the insane lengths that a scared and twisted Tom Riddle had devised.

It wasn't until he was at McGonagall's fireplace that he realized that he had never seen Hermione after he had lost track of her the night before. Her parents had been adamant about her coming home for the holidays this year, and with her and Ron currently at odds with one another, Harry rather thought that they both were relieved to get a bit of distance between each other. He had been so distracted that he had not actively sought her out but he now wished that he had had the chance to talk about all of this before they were separated by the fortnight break. Hermione had a way of taking complicated situations and breaking them into manageable tasks and he knew he would feel better about what came next once he spoke to her. Unfortunately, now it was too late as he certainly couldn't relay any of this information to her via letter. He assumed that she had spent the morning packing up the last of the books before the train arrived for her and the rest of the students, the use of the floo network had been arranged for himself as well as Ron and Ginny for extra security in case Harry's arrival at the station was incentive for an attack. As Harry disappeared in swirl of green flame he made himself a resolution- at the Burrow he would truly be on holiday. He wouldn't worry about Voldemort, or Horcruxes, or the vampires or the Ministry. For a brief moment he wouldn't have to be Harry Potter, Chosen One, he would just Harry amongst his favorite family in the world.

Harry arrived at the Burrow and was almost immediately pulled into a warm hug from Mrs. Weasley who, as always, was delighted that he was staying with them. Harry smiled at the sight of the familiar living room, in the nearly 5 years that Harry had been coming to the Burrow it hadn't changed at all and Harry loved it, he had only gotten to stay for a single day over the summer and the Healers had tried to talk him out of even that much, claiming that it would be easier just to transport him directly to King's Cross, but Harry had managed to talk them into letting him out. Other than Hogwarts it was the closest thing he had ever had to a real home and he always felt better inside its lopsided but cozy walls. And he had been right, despite how tired and sore he had felt, he had felt immensely better under Mrs. Weasleys caring eye than the professional but aloof care of St. Mungo's.

Ron and Ginny quickly followed and were also greeted by their ecstatic mother. "Oh I'm so happy to have you all here for the holidays! It has been so very long since we've all had a proper Christmas with the family. We've got nearly everyone this year!" she boasted. "Bill and Fleur are coming and even Charlie is making the trip from Romania, Percy hasn't responded to my letter yet..." she paused ever so slightly as though she expected someone to correct her on this little indulgent fantasy but for once neither Ron nor Ginny said anything, though both of their expressions darkened greatly at the mention of their estranged brother.

"Oh and the twins are coming of course. They've agreed to spend the evenings here while you're all home for break even though they have to pop back to their shop during the day," Harry wondered how Mrs. Weasley had managed that since he happened to know that the twins were very happy living in the loft above their shop but he suspected she had unashamedly used the fact that they were at war and Christmas was a time for family to guilt them into staying. Harry had long since learned that despite their reputation, the twins were actually the softest-hearted Weasleys when it came to family loyalty.

"I am so happy you could come as well Harry. It wouldn't feel like the whole family was here without you," Mrs. Weasley finished with a fond smile and pat of his cheek.

"Thank you Mrs. Weasley, I love being here. It's really nice to spend Christmas with real family," he added thinking about what Professor McGonagall had said to him, grateful that his Head of House seemed to understand that family was not about blood at all.

That night they had a dinner that only Mrs. Weasley could have called simple. They had ten people in the cramped kitchen and the meal was in three courses, all wonderfully delicious. The room was loud and chaotic but that didn't stop all of the attention gathering on Harry and Ginny in the beginning of the meal when Fred boisterously pronounced, "so what's this I hear about Ginny doing what's Mum's failed to do for years and Harry officially making part of the family?"

It was not news that went down quietly. Harry had assumed that Ginny had written to her mother at some point to tell her that the two of them were together but apparently Ginny had saved that particular story to share with her parents face to face and Harry was soon engulfed in a particularly suffocating hug and exclaims at delight that the two of them were together, however, Mr. Weasley looked a bit more wary of the news- something that Harry had to admit stung him despite understanding the man's reservations. Molly Weasley might be a romantic who wanted her family to include all of the people that she cared about most, Arthur Weasley was a Ministry employee who knew that the war was worsening by the day and a time would come when Harry of all people could no longer hide from it. Bill and Charlie's reactions were more neutral, both seemingly taking the tact that this was a teenage romance and nothing more but each made sure to level Harry with a suspicious glance, letting him know that family would always come first, especially when it came to the possibility that anyone might be taking advantage of their baby sister. Fleur cooed at how 'adorable' the two of them were together but lamented the fact that her sister Gabrielle would be very disappointed indeed that 'mon Cherie Harry is off the market'.

Fred and George were predictably the most exuberant. They had seized on the idea that their two month relationship was destined for marriage and spent the night asking Ginny questions about what colors she would like to use and Harry how he felt about including some muggle traditions into the ceremony. Ron had been quiet, providing neither condemnation or support but by the tension in his face and tell-tale jiggling of his left leg Harry knew that his friend's attention was set on the conversation that he had decided to have his with his parents that evening. It was with this in mind that Harry had miraculously gotten the other Weasley siblings cleared out of the kitchen and into the living room under the pretext of an Exploding Snap tournament, allowing Ron some rare but much needed privacy with his parents.

Playing any game with Fred and George always proved to be exceptionally challenging for their were always unforeseen challenges but as it turned out Charlie was more than a match for his rumbustious younger brother- but then he did spend his time wrangling in fully grown dragons so Harry supposed he of all people was perhaps an even match after all. Ginny was spending some time catching up with Bill and Harry was pleasantly surprised to find himself in an interesting conversation with Fleur. Ever since the Second Task, the two of them had a friendly if rather condescension-ridden relationship but as they started talking about her job Gringotts and some of the finer differences between life in Britain and in France, with Harry's newly acquired knowledge of foreign nations from his recent Summit visit helping his side of the conversation, he found that was actually quite funny and remarkable insightful about politics.

It was as they were reminiscing about the TriWizard Tournament for the first time since they had been competitors that the other conversations started to trickle off. "You ran into a runespoor? That would have been a lot easier than the acromantula that I got!" Harry exclaimed.

"Not all of us are so gifted with parselmouth mon Cheri," Fleur answered with a laugh as Bill blinked in surprise. "I didn't know that there were acromantulas in the maze," he said. Having no doubt heard the account of everything from Fleur, Harry wasn't surprised. The part veela had never made it far enough in to come across it.

"Sphinx too actually. I don't think I ever wished I had Hermione's brains more than in that moment," Harry smiled, finding himself surprised that for the first time ever he was able to remember even part of that night with any degree of fondness. The only people he had ever spoken to about either the Third Task or what had happened after were Dumbledore, Sirius, Ron and Hermione but sitting her in the Burrow's living room with Ginny giving him a soft, affectionate smile as spoke, it felt as though something that had been broken in him for a long time was finally fixed. The topic of conversation shifted quickly after that and despite his newfound distance from the trauma of that night, Harry was grateful that even though they had spoken of the tournament no one had used that as means of asking further about that night.

Ron was gone longer than Harry had thought that he would be and he was beginning to feel anxious over how the conversation might be going. Ginny was the only other person who knew that Ron had been planning on discussing his parents' apparent concerns over his well-being and was much better at keeping everyone attention focused either on the game or else simple conversation than Harry, who had not spent much time with either Bill or Charlie. However, despite their best efforts, Ron's extended absence, coinciding with that of their parents' had not escaped anyone's notice and Harry knew that it was no secret at all as to what their youngest brother was talking to their parents about.

Harry recalled that strange feeling after his First Year of actually being wanted by a family and using the Weasleys as a template of how a real family should behave with one another. The Weasleys were loud, chaotic and occasionally the Burrow was a downright dangerous place with the twins around but they were loyal to one another and looked out for their family in ways that even after all this time took Harry occasionally by surprise. Harry knew that every single person in the living room knew what conversation was likely taking place in the kitchen but no one spoke of it, no one speculated about what might happen and when Ron finally emerged it was to a distinct lack of jokes from the twins.

Over an hour later Ron came out, his face set and shoulders tense, not pausing at the crowded, noisy living room. "Ronnie, where have you been? You can have next," George called out, his tone for once lacking any mocking or teasing for his younger brother.

"Forget it, I'm going to bed," Ron answered tightly, causing the rest of them stop their conversations and look up at their youngest brother with evident concern. Ron flushed slightly, realizing that perhaps it would have been better to have simply played with his siblings than draw further attention to himself but was now backed into a corner.

"You know, we were at Slughorn's party last night and I think we're all tired. Thank god I only had to hang out with Ginny, Ron had to deal with Lavender all night," Harry joked, "I'm going to go to sleep as well, we can do this another night, yeah?" There were several nods of consent and Harry hastily made his way after Ron into top-floor bedroom.

"Alright Ron?" 

Ron let out a long breath before sinking down onto his bed, "yeah, it- it wasn't anything I didn't expect really."

"Well what did they say?"

Ron looked down for a minute, clearly collecting his thoughts before he finally sighed as he said, "first Dad told me that they felt bad about surprising me in Hogsmeade with a Mind Healer without even writing to me about it first. They even said that they should have learned their lesson when they basically did the same thing to you but they were worried that I wouldn't turn up at all if I knew what they were planning and I guess they thought that I would have to go along with it if, you know, they just asked for forgiveness instead of permission."

Harry nodded before grinning, "you showed them though."

Ron gave a weak laugh but his heart clearly wasn't in it. "They said that they were worried because I remind them Uncle Roger, but not just with our personality but with... with like how I get angry, or how when I'm in a bad mood I don't pull out of it. I told them that it's not like that and then they said what Hermione always says," he said this with a harder edge to his voice, a bitterness from their recent argument.

"That you should talk to the Mind Healer and make sure that you're fine? I kind of thought that's what you had decided to do anyway," Harry said honestly.

Ron grimaced, "it all sounded good when I was talking about it with you but with them..."

Harry nodded his understanding, he could very well picture the tearful eyes that Mrs. Weasley had used on her youngest son, full of unwanted, and more than likely completely unwarranted, concern and how it would raise Ron's defenses.

Harry scratched the back of his head, unsure what he should be saying. He didn't feel like he could give good advice. He would have fought tooth and nail against having to talk to a stranger about himself, but then again he also didn't have the slightest idea what it was like to have parents that were genuinely worried about you.

"I told them I would do it," Ron said after a moment of silence. "I mean I told them that they were wrong and that I didn't need it but if it was going to just make everybody feel better than I would do it. I think they're gonna ask Bill to ask his friend Sarah to come round for tea over the holiday." Ron groaned, "which means that everyone is going to know about it."

Harry winced sympathetically, "honestly mate, I've seen your family write a chain of letters over Charlie's new boots. Your mum started a three-month multiple howler relay about whether or not Bill should get a haircut. I sort of think everyone was always going to know."

Ron laughed more genuinely this time, "yeah I suppose you're right about that. Any of them say anything while I was in with Mum and Dad? Anytime one of us is talking to both Mum _and_ Dad alone the rest of us hold our own war council on it."

Harry laughed, having been witness to at least one these when the twins had been pulled into the kitchen for a particularly involved prank and the rest of the family had taken bets on the punishment- Ginny had walked away with four galleons and a distinctively smug swagger to her walk.

But after a moment he grew serious, "er actually, no one said anything but... I'm pretty positive that everyone's figured out why you were talking to them."

Ron groaned once more but nodded, "is it at all weird that I really wish Fred and George had really taken the mickey out of me for this?" Harry gave a weak laugh but understood. One of the things that had helped him get through those terrible months when almost everyone in the castle was convinced that he was the Heir of Slytherin were Fred and George shouting at the top of their lungs to 'make way for the seriously evil wizard' because then he had at least known they had not taken the accusations seriously. Their polite silence now was more troubling than if they had simply presented Ron with a straight-jacket and told him that they would be sending him fun flavors of jello.

HPHPHP

Despite Ron's apprehension about the tea and unofficial Healer appointment that was set for Dec. 30th, the coming days were the most relaxing that Harry had had in months, possibly years. He couldn't remember a time when he hadn't been worried, or angry, or just so busy with something to do with the war that he barely had time to sleep but here at the Burrow, there were none of these concerns. The twins had indeed come by each evening and told them all that their shop was a run-away success. They had also told Harry privately, while grinning widely, that the news of a secret investor had spread and it had become a sort of covert game for customers to come to the shop and try and guess who their silent partner might be. The twins had never even confirmed that they had a silent partner but the rumor had only sparked additional interest and they swore that the mystery of a secret business partner was almost better advertising than any of their traditional adverts. Harry had been surprised both by the news and by his own uncharacteristically giddy excitement at being at the center of a mystery that was actually about him for a change when no one knew it- instead of the reverse of everyone knowing something about him that usually wasn't even true.

The best part of the break was being able to spend several uninterrupted hours with Ginny. While Ginny had been upset with him the night of Slughorn's party for his abrupt departure, the break from all of the chaos did the two of them a world of good. They spent hours talking, cuddling beside the fireplace and- on the rare occasions when they could find a truly private moment with so many Weasleys underfoot- snogging rather passionately. Ginny spoke about what it had been like during her First Year as she had slowly started to lose herself to the diary. Harry vented his frustrations about having to balance so many different things at one time and the fears that he might not be able to do them all.

It was novel experience for him, sharing his insecurities, and he had been hesitant at first but it helped that Ginny was so open with him. The trust she showed in him meant everything to him and though he knew he was not as free with his expressions as she was, it was still the most vulnerable he had ever allowed himself to be with another person and he found that in spite of the fear that came with opening himself up after so many years of presenting nothing but a brave face to the world, there was a sense of relief as well. And pride. Harry had always suffered under a secret, most often deeply-buried, fear that the Dursleys had in fact ruined him in some fundamental way. He had no concept of a getting comfort from a parent and found it difficult in most situations to even ask for advice from adults. Even with Ron and Hermione, he tended to discuss facts and plans rather than his feelings. Occasionally, Hermione in particular would push him to talk in order to ensure that he was alright but he had always held a small portion of himself back from allowing them to see his weaknesses. But in those quiet moments where Harry confessed his feelings for one of the first times in life, he found unexpected strength in them.

It was the best Christmas of his life and Harry found himself reaching towards that dream of a real life after the war. A simple one with no Dark Lords, no press hounding them, no oaths of loyalty from vampire clans. And as he and Ginny sat close together watching the snow fall gracefully from the sky on Christmas Eve, sipping hot cocoa and listening to the rather grating voice of Celetina Warbeck at Mrs. Weasleys insistence, Harry had the thought strike him like a thunderbolt that he was truly content for one of the first times in his life.

Christmas dinner was a fun and relaxed affair as well. A number of Order members joined them throughout the day. Remus joined them for most of day, looking particularly care-worn as he had been working with the werewolves. In fact, his ex-Defense teacher was looking distinctly ill and Harry was growing worried for him and so it was with this in mind that he broke his own rules of not worrying about the war over the holiday in order to ask Remus what he thought the werewolves were likely to do. He confided that Raymond was working to keep the Clan focused on the vampires but many of them wanted revenge on the werewolves. Harry was convinced that another war was about to break-out in the midst of the one they were already in and he wondered if Remus had any insights of what could be done.

His father's last remaining friend had looked surprised with how much Harry knew about the Clan's plans as well as some of the Ministry's ideas for dealing with both the werewolves and the vampires- who despite all reason still tended to lump together under the simple umbrella of 'dark creatures'. Harry wondered why Remus was so surprised by his knowledge when the _Prophet_ had been printing his involvement for months until it occurred to him that aside from a few conversations, Harry had not spoken much to Remus since Third Year, and the man still thought of him as rather naïve, if somewhat unusually cynical, thirteen year old.

He let the matter drop for the moment but he hoped that he would have the opportunity to get more information from a person that was in a unique position to get the unvarnished truth from the werewolves. As hard as Harry tried to stay objective during their discussions and do what he thought would best help their chances against Voldemort he had to admit that he was biased against the pack that had savaged murdered so many people in cold blood. He thought that it would help, hearing things from Remus' perspective. Someone that he thought of as a friend first and a werewolf only as a technicality. And if nothing else he wanted the conflict with the werewolves over quickly if no other reason than to get Remus out of whatever he was doing, as it seemed as though his health depended on it.

Tonks stopped by much later after having had dinner with her parents and Harry grinned at her as he called her outside where he was still in conversation with his old Defense professor. After their initial rocky start, he and Tonks had settled into an almost surprisingly friendly mentor/mentee relationship. Tonks was not that much older than him and had quickly realized that life experience alone set them almost as equals. While Harry certainly deferred to her when it came to their training, the two of them had found that they had a similar sense of humor and had taken to ribbing one another quite often. They had an easy banter that Harry had found came surprisingly easy when he stopped to consider he had really only known her for a couple of months outside of a few meetings here and there.

"Wotcher Potter, you get beat by any impressive First Years yet? I can't imagine you're up to dealing with the Second Years with the way I handled you last week."

Harry pretended to look hurt, "just wait until I'm really trying Tonks..." Harry had only been kidding her but there was funny light in her eyes as he spoke that made it seem as though she actually believed him, even if he was actually less than confident. He had learned that, despite her clumsiness in day to day life, Tonks had been the dueling champion of her Auror Class and was quite the force to be reckoned with. While Harry was fairly certain that he held his own reasonably well, he had yet to win an actual fight against her.

"Er...hello Dora, its'...nice to see you," Lupin offered looking especially self-conscious.

Tonks regarded him coolly but Harry knew enough to know that the sentiment meant quite a lot to her. She had confided in him that despite how things had played out, she was still in love with him. However, in the weeks following their confrontation, Tonks had also made the rather difficult resolution to move on. She would not wait for someone that was unwilling to put in the effort. Harry felt sad that Lupin would not allow himself the happiness that Harry knew firsthand came from being with someone that you cared about.

"You as well... you're looking particularly awful you know. You don't need to be staying with them," she offered bluntly. "It's not worth this."

Lupin sighed, "Dora..."

"She's right you know," Harry interjected quickly because Tonks was right. When Harry had first seen Lupin on the train Third Year he had thought him ill and unkempt, but now Lupin looked like a down-and-out that down to their last pair of decent trousers and was so pale that he looked more like one of the vampires than a werewolf. "You got the information that you need, anything else we can find out by negotiations with the werewolves." And it was true, as much as he wanted to hear Remus' opinion on matters he hated the idea of him killing himself for people that might very well turn around and side against him. Remus' life wasn't worth risking for scrapes of information and the longshot that a newfound member of the pack would persuade anyone not to join Voldemort.

Lupin's scowled, and for the first time since that night in the Shrieking Shack, Harry saw him truly angry "you both don't understand-"

"We understand enough to know that you want to think that this will be important," Tonks said impatiently, her hair and eyes both turning a fiery red. "I'm not as stupid or as naïve as you would like to think that I am Remus. I know that you would want to help, we all do. We all want to think that if we give up enough, if we suffer enough that it will mean something. And that we will win because we've all done the right thing but I'm not the one being naïve! Any contacts that you have that will give you worthwhile information will give it to you regardless of whether or not your falling all over yourself to prove that you're a 'real werewolf' or whatever that is supposed to mean. And as long as we're telling hard truths, no one is going to be overjoyed to be switch sides to follow someone that looks as though the next full moon might well be their last! I suggest you get your bloody head out of your own ass Remus and recognize that you are already a valuable member of the Order without having to kill yourself in the process. It's about time that you stop pretending to be strong and actually have the courage to stand up for yourself!"

Remus blinked, his mouth gaping as Tonks stormed back into the house. Harry winced at the older man apologetically. He had known that Tonks was frustrated with him but he had not expected her to unload the way that she had. "You're not weak for doing what you think is right," Harry finally said quietly before thinking and adding even more softly, "if that's what you're actually doing."

Remus took a trembling breath, "I told you over the summer Harry... you don't really know me. You know that I was friends with James at school. You know that I fought for the Order and that I fight against Voldemort but... its all so much complicated than that."

They were quiet for a long moment and Harry could hear the laughter coming from the house in one direction colliding with the silence from the field in front of them. "Harry... that night we found out the truth about Sirius, didn't it ever occur to you ask why my closest school friends thought that I was the traitor of the Order? There were over a score of other members, there was no reason to think that the traitor had to come from our group of school friends and yet... didn't any of you question why I wasn't even surprised that they would suspect me?"

Harry hesitated a moment because the truth was that question had occurred to him but more in the abstract of how anyone could question their friend's loyalty in such a way, not to the point that he had truly believed that the suspicion had been justified. 

Remus looked out over the lightly snow-covered field, his expression far off as though he was not looking at the landscape but at images of a past that could never be recaptured. "There is a good reason why werewolves are considered dark creatures." Harry looked up sharply but Remus held up a hand to keep him silent. "Prejudice, stereotypes- they don't paint the whole picture but that doesn't mean that they don't start with a grain of truth, most times at least," Remus added with small shrug.

"There is a certain... bloodlust that comes with my kind that while muted on every night except the full moon is never completely gone. People like Tonks... your father and Sirius, they truly like to believe the best in people. They will tell you that werewolves are just people that suffer a monthly affliction- nothing more, nothing less, but like most things it is not that simple. I'm not as innocent as you would probably like to believe Harry. I can be ruthless when I need to be."

Harry frowned thinking of his own failed attempt at casting the Cruciatus. He was quite ready to share that particular foible, nor was he sure that hearing that he wasn't able to cast it because he evidently didn't truly want to cause pain help in this particular conversation. "Remus... so are most people, when they need to be. We're at war. I'm not stupid enough to think that not only are people on our going to die but we're going to have kill others too. The only way this ends is if someone kills Voldemort... and if I get the chance I'm going to do it. And I think I'll actually even feel bad about it, which is sort of insane really, but I'll do it. Because it has to be done."

"We're talking about two different things," Remus sighed, his expression tired. "Maybe... but anything that might have happened in the past, is in the past. Do you want to know what real ruthlessness is? Do you have any idea how much... pleasure that Voldemort and even his Death Eaters get out hurting people? Or how Voldemort can kill someone and not even feel anything at all? You're not like that Remus, that much I know for sure. No one is perfect and being a werewolf has nothing to do with it."

Remus was frowning back at the house with an unreadable expression but his eyes were following Tonks through the window. "Remus I think the two of us know better than anyone that life is short, and there are a lot of things that you can't control, so why choose to be unhappy when you don't have to be?"

Remus didn't answer and Harry walked quietly back into the house, unsure if he had left an impression or not.

The afternoon of January 30th, Harry finally got see Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes along with Ginny. She and Ron had both seen it over the summer but even she had been impressed by the scores of customers that were in the store despite it being after Christmas. The shop itself was the very embodiment of Fred and George. They showed him around, well as giving him an unofficial tour of the backroom business in which the twins had secured a highly lucrative and important contract with the Ministry providing safety materials for their employees for the war.

They returned to the Burrow with the Twins in time for dinner, all of them rather anxious to hear how Ron's appointment had gone. As it turned out, a Mind Healer while similar to a therapist in the muggle world was in fact quite different in the fact that they could use leglimency to help diagnose any problems. Apparently a conclusive mental health analysis in the muggle world was not an exact science and could take several weeks or even, at times, months to completely understand the mind of a patient. Sarah Walker had said it would take about 2 hours to both scan and then talk through what she saw with Ron.

As they came inside they caught sight of both of the Weasley parents grinning and looking distinctively relieved and Harry let out a small breath that he had not even fully realized that he was holding in. Fred and George shot them a questioning look and Mrs. Weasley said, "everything is just fine. Everyone else is in the kitchen if you want to join them." And suddenly that was all that needed to be said.

In the kitchen Ron was sitting with Bill and Charlie who was looking rather bemused at the moment as they were currently in the middle of rather heated debate as to who was secretly the bigger troublemaker in their youth, each taking credit for quite a few things that that took Harry, who had always imagined the other Weasley siblings quite tame in comparison to Fred and George, by surprise. "And not only did I change Aunt Muriel's robe in the middle of dinner to bright fuchia, I managed to get you blamed for it which is even better," Charlie argued smugly.

"You two really are quite adorable, trying to win second place in this contest behind our backs so we can't even shake our heads at you," Fred greeted them, deftly snatching the apple that Charlie had been idly tossing into the air and taking a bite out of it.

"And to imagine... you two were supposed to be our role models." George sighed, making it unclear if he was disappointed that his older brothers were secretly causing mischief when they were supposed to setting a good example, or disappointed that they weren't better at causing mischief. Harry was almost positive it was the former.

The Weasley siblings continued to joke and laugh with one another and if Ron was slightly quiet, Harry had the impression that this time he was the only one that notice. When the others were loudly arguing points in favor of their various Qudditich teams Harry whispered over to Ron. "So everything is alright?"

Ron nodded with a smile. "Yeah it is," Ron hesitated and there was something unreadable in his expression. "I'll tell you all about everything she said but... not here. It's nothing," he was quick to reassure Harry. "it's just I think you would probably understand better." Harry nodded and resigned himself to waiting until Ron was ready to talk. In the meantime Ron was finally roused from his relative silence as he realized that in the unofficially ranking system the family had put together the Cannons were dead last- and that would not stand at all.

However Harry's temporary peace was shattered the night of New Year's Eve. At the news that Ron was officially in good health, the twins had announced that the news that their younger brother actually possessed documented proof that he was mentally stable required a celebration and had prepared for the event 'with aplomb'.

However, even the twins known love of chaos had not factored in the surprise appearance of their older brother- Percy Weasley had come home at last. They were all assembled in the back garden, enjoying the fireworks display that Fred and George had created, when a quiet voice behind them all cleared his throat. Harry spun, wand already drawn at the expected intrusion, an action missed by no one present, but Molly only had eyes for her prodigal son. "Oh Percy..."

"Hello mother... I was sorry to have missed Christmas, but I didn't want to start the New Year without having...addressed our differences."

Harry saw Mr. Weasley frown at the phrasing but his wife was too caught up in the moment to care very much what was being said as long as it meant that Percy had come home. Everyone else was glaring at Percy, anger clear on their faces.

"Our differences? Is that how you remember it Perce? Because the rest of us remember you walking out because your job was more important to you than your family," Fred said disapprovingly.

Percy shifted uncomfortably, "I will admit that the Minister took a short sighted and... _misguided_ view of the situation but that doesn't change the fact that I was the only one that thought about the safety of this family."

"Safety? Percy we were talking about the return of You-Know-Who! No one was safe!" Bill exclaimed.

"There was no reason for us to be involved in the conflict last year. We weren't at war yet, you were needlessly placing yourselves at risk because of your association with him," Percy nearly snarled the accusation as he pointed at Harry who felt very much as though he had been punched the stomach and had the wind knocked out him, though he felt the emptiness being filled with pure unadulterated anger.

Harry had worked hard to keep his own animosity with Percy away from the Weasleys, even Ron only knew the broad strokes because Harry had not felt it right to ever make his best friend choose between supporting him and his family but now he had been pushed too far.

"I have _never_ asked them to put themselves in danger! Don't go changing history now, you can't claim that there was no proof that Voldemort was back and also claim that I was dragging your family into danger!"

"It all comes to the same thing, doesn't it? If he wasn't back you were ruining our reputation and position in the Wizarding World, and if he was actually back you were endangering their lives. My parents have done everything for you and all you do is take advantage of them at every turn."

"That is enough!" Mr. Weasley shouted and Harry had never seen the usually amiable man so enraged. Mrs. Weasley was pale but Ron... who was shaking as he shouted at the same time, "go fuck yourself Percy.

"Ron!"

"No! I've had enough of this! Harry has done more for us than you ever did Percy! He saved Ginny's life, he saved Dad's life and where the hell were you? You need to get over your damn self because in case I didn't make it clear enough for you, let me spell it you shall I? If you ever ask me to choose between you and Harry, I will choose him every time!"

Percy's face was chalk white and he was trembling slightly as he took in the hostile glares from his family. Mrs. Weasley was openly sobbing at this point and Mr. Weasley seemed to be struggling with himself not hit something. "I see," Percy said quietly. "Its never been much of a secret how I was regarded in this family. I understand that but if you choose to side with... with a boy that will bring Death Eaters to your doorsteps don't later claim that you were never warned. I am sorry that I didn't believe that You-Know-Who was back last year. I- I was wrong about that, but that doesn't mean that I'm wrong now. The Ministry..." Percy turned to his father. "You must see how bad things have gotten. You must know that all you're doing is putting yourself in needless danger."

"Because we're Purebloods?" Ginny, who had been surprisingly quiet up until now finally asked. "We're Purebloods so we should turn a blind eye to what will happen because if just jump on board and keep our mouths clothes, we can blend right in?" 

Percy swallowed, "there's a time to be brave and stand up for what's right and... there's a time to know when you haven't got a chance of winning."

It was Mrs. Weasley that spoke and her voice was shaking as she said them, "there's never a time to give into fear and call it practicality Percy. We do what right. Even when its hard, especially when its hard because that's when it matters the most. I love you dearly my son, I always will... but do come back to my house until you've thought long and hard about what truly matters to you."

Mrs. Weasley walked slowly back to the house, her walk slower than normal, her shoulders hunched as though she was holding an enormous burden. As and though they were part of one person, Harry and the rest of the family turned back to Percy- too sad at this point to be angry. Harry noticed that it was officially past midnight. The New Year had begun it felt appropriate that it would start this way, his break was at an end and there was work to be done.

 **A/N: So I hadn't planned to do anything from Luna's POV this chapter but I got a challenge from** Taurus Ara Black **to write about what happened in Ravenclaw Tower from her view and I thought I would give it a try. And let me say- writing Luna Lovegood is really, really hard! I've seen quite a few fics where Luna is a true Seer or otherwise gifted with knowledge that no one has, but I don't really see any evidence of that. In fact in the books she never even claims to see any of these creatures herself, she just assumes that they are around based on what's happening. Though I do find her to be insightful and perspective, I also found that many of the so-called 'crazy' things that come out of her mouth seem to be more conspiracy based rather than simple imagined creatures. Stubby Boardman is really Sirius Black, the Minister is a vampire, the Rotgang Conspiracy- all ideas that come from her father but Luna believes in them whole heartedly so I tried to think about what other things Luna would believe and I thought Professor Trelawney would probably be one of them. Also- I know in the book Luna had Firenze 5** **th** **year but I had to change it. Please let me know what you think of Luna. Too sane? Too paranoid?**

 **Harry's training: Like I've said, I consider Harry to be a powerful wizard, particularly for his age however, nothing annoys me more than when I read an otherwise good story but its then casually mentioned that Harry spent a month at Privet Drive re-reading his textbooks (alongside more extra books than Hermione somehow) and is beating every Auror there is after two weeks of training. Harry is good- he's not super-human. So the way I see it, even though he keeps talking about Tonks beating him, he's actually doing very well for a 16 year old that is almost entirely self-taught against a trained Auror with a few years experience but he isn't able to actually beat her.**


	29. Hermione's Miscalculation

**Chapter 29: Hermione's Miscalculation**

Three days after the events of New Years, Snape came to collect Harry for a meeting with the vampires. They used a portkey to get to the edge of Crescent Nest, the Prince Estate standing tall in the background, the dark woods that Harry had been lost in off to the side looking rather sinister, at least in his mind.

"Mr. Potter, there are some inherent complications with you returning to my home. You are known to the vampires as Harry Potter but the muggles present have never met Harry Potter and I assume you know that they never can. It took quite a bit of explaining, alongside some specialized memory charms to the wizards present to forget that who they all thought was a squib was suddenly driving back dementors. As far as they are concerned, Jimmy Evans escaped with the rest of the children thanks to the efforts of Draco Malfoy and was treated for injuries in hospital before returning to a new muggle boarding school so as to better adjust to his new life without magic. One I point of saying he was now looking forward to in light of such traumatizing events. The muggles have received a similar but obviously edited story to exclude the knowledge of magic."

"You made everyone believe that _Malfoy_ saved me?" Harry asked indignantly, feeling this was entirely unfair considering how things had actually played out.

Snape arched his eyebrow, "I was unaware that the credit for such deeds was so important to you," he said, striding away. Considering Snape had once been livid about losing an Order of Merlin that he had not earned in the slightest, Harry found this a very hypocritical statement.

"I don't need credit for doing anything but I rather not have Malfoy be considered a hero after his own plans to hand me off to Voldemort were ruined that night."

Snape's fluid stride faltered so slightly that Harry might not have noticed at all if he hadn't been watching the man's reaction so closely.

"I believe," Snape gritted out, patience at its limit, "that you have been warned in the past about the dangers of accusing people without proper evidence." Harry sucked in a sharp breath, he had been warned. By Lupin when he had first woken up and was still rather confused about everything, and supposedly _in confidence_. But if Snape knew that then it was because Lupin had told him, and perhaps had told everyone in the Order. Which either meant that they were taking his claims more seriously than they had let on... or they had known all along that he had been right, and Harry really didn't like to think about the implications of that scenario.

Harry bit back a snarky remark about being sensitive enough only to accuse Draco in front of his chief co-conspirator and instead said nothing. He had seen what he wanted to, Snape had as good as confirmed that Draco had been plotting something the night of the werewolf attack, and there was an uncomfortable swell of tension as they both arrived at that conclusion.

They entered the manor in silence until Harry was greeted by an enthusiastic Eppy, who gushed that he was looking pale and underfed and 'definitely should not be having to carry his heavy things!' Even though they were not heavy at all. Harry greeted her with equal warmth and took out the gift that he had been sure to bring along for her once he knew that he would in fact be spending part of his break with the potions master. Harry had received a gift from Kreacher, who he had not so much as laid eyes since becoming his owner and had felt rather bad about not getting the elf anything- that was until he discovered he had been given a pile of maggots. Eppy on the other hand he had been happy to get something for right alongside Dobby's socks.

"Oh but Master Harry should not be giving Eppy such wonderful lemony fresh cleaning spray! Is too valuable and wonderful to be given to House elves."

"Only the best cleaning products for the best house elves," Harry told her with a wink. He knew that Hermione would have been horrified that he had given her such a gift, but over the summer Eppy had often lamented that she could not expand her cleaning prowess and the look of delight and awe on her face made him feel that she was more than satisfied.

"Thank you so very much Master Harry, Eppy has never received such a wonderful gift!"

Snape shifted in a manner that Harry had never seen him do before and Harry had the impression that he was oddly uncomfortable with the fact that Harry had given his servant a gift when, evidently, he had not.

"The room you used during your last stay is still available... or if you would prefer a different room in the same hall I'm confident that Eppy will be happy to make it available for your use."

"Eppy has been so excited to have Harry Potter staying here once again that Eppy has cleaned all of the rooms for him. Many times. Master Harry can be staying in a different room each night if that is what he be wishing for."

Harry smiled at the happy elf, "thanks Eppy, I'm sure you've done a great job but I liked my old room just fine and I've made it a personal goal never to do anything that will make me too much like the Dursleys, so I really don't think I need more than one bedroom," he told her with a small laugh.

Snape gave Harry a long, unreadable look that he couldn't begin to decipher before sweeping out of the room for the night.

The next day they arrived at Raymond's house, which Harry was surprised to discover was much larger and more stately than he had first thought, once one passed the gate in the front. "Magic?" Harry asked, confused by its use by a vampire. While Born Vampires were capable of magic, unlike Turned Vampires, the type of spellwork that was involved in such an illusion was not something he would have thought that they were capable of doing.

"A bargain was struck between the Patriarch of the Kováč Clan and the Head of the Prince family nearly two centuries ago when the family first came into power, while the agreement itself was rather involved, one of the provisions was not only an illusion for outsiders on the Estate of the Patriarch so that no one outside of their closest allies would see its true importance, but also the addition of quite a few protection spells as well since Vampires excel at offensive magic but many times struggle with defense."

Harry nodded but they were interrupted from any further discussion by Raymond himself who was looking unusually stressed. "Thank you for coming Harry, Severus- as always a pleasure to see you my old friend, but I am afraid that the negotiations I had hoped you to help with... appear to be at a stand-still even before they begin."

"I take that to mean that Mr. Anghelescu has rallied the support that he needs and sees no reason to do things sensibly," Snape said.

Raymond smiled wanly, "as usual Severus you have a way of cutting the heart of an issue, albeit with a blunt knife."

"What does that mean for the Clan?" Harry asked. He had known that tensions had been rising since the summer but even he hadn't realized it had gotten to this point.

"Please come into the parlor and sit down," he gestured them into an old fashioned but very well-kept and clean dayroom. Harry reflected idly that it the vampire's 'lair' so to speak was brighter with its soft colors than the Prince rooms with their antiquated- decay and general feeling of gloom despite their tidiness. There was tea service available and they all made themselves comfortable, or as comfortable as Snape ever did, in all of the various settings that Harry had seen the man in this year, he had never seen him relax his posture.

"As I'm sure you have gathered at this point, Dimitri has been wanting to assert power for some time. While he is legitimately, and even rightly, outraged by the werewolves' attack, it is also the perfect opportunity to forward his own agenda. Nothing shows leadership better than someone who seems to take the situation in hand after a crisis- even if it's the wrong hand."

"And his ridiculous cohorts are blind to the fact that he is essentially leading them off a cliff. Open warfare with the werewolves will bring down the might of the Ministry and Fudge will use a raid on the village as political leverage after a year of nothing but bad news."

Harry frowned trying to keep up with the repercussions, "because Fudge thinks that the Ministry will be able to take out the werewolves and vampires and then play it out as a victory in the press? Are we positive that the Wizengamot is even going to want to after them when the Aurors are already spread so thin?"

Raymond nodded, his expression wearily, "yes unfortunately I think they will. The discrimination and fear that wizards feel for 'dark creatures' has been a guiding force for a history of bad decisions in that regard but more importantly, as you astutely pointed out, it would be a victory in the press. One that the Ministry badly needs at the moment. Fudge is likely to make the mistake of thinking that fighting us will be easier than fighting skilled dark wizards, firstly because he is overconfident in his own kind and secondly by fighting against 'creatures' he able to activate but departments and protocols against us that he is unable to use against the Dark One's legions of supporters."

"And let us not forget that although after the events of last year, Lucius Malfoy is no longer able to weld the influence that he had, the Dark Lord- by either true loyalty or else bewitchment- has control over a significant number in the Wizengamot and turning the Ministry against an army of creatures that have thus far refused to join him in alliance only suits his purposes. The major problem comes into play though because most of my people are less confident about a victory for the Ministry. Some don't believe they will actually attack us at all but those that do are convinced, given the poor performance of the Aurors and Hit Wizards reported in the past months, that we will be able to defeat them. But they aren't looking at the bigger picture, while we can fight both the werewolves and the Ministry that means spreading ourselves thin with a war on two fronts, which will then open to a third once the Dark One and his Death Eaters take advantage of the situation and they will decimate us."

Harry frowned, "I just... I don't understand, vampires live for centuries, aren't most of you... well old enough to know better?" he asked blushing slightly as there was really no tactful way to phrase the question but it had been bothering him for weeks and for once he was talking to the Patriarch alone instead of in front of half a dozen witnesses.

Snape looked rather exasperated at the question but Raymond laughed and appeared more amused than anything. "Yes one would think that, wouldn't they? However, what you must understand about Born Vampires, who are the only ones that have any real power our society, is that we develop much slower than humans. Our long lives mean that all stages of development are slowed, especially after one reaches their majority. While you as a wizard will be considered an adult at the age of 17, our young must wait until the age of 30 to stop growing an end what I suppose you would call 'adolescence'. After that, time moves even slower. Dimitri is 157 years old and is still considered a young man. And therefore he behaves like a rash young man, his followers are either of a comparable age or else so old that they are haunted by the oldest of prejudices. Our kind has always been at odd with werewolves, we have an instinctual and predatory dislike for one another. Dimitri is wisely using that knowledge to stir up an emotional response rather than a logical one.

"Which leads into the next reason that many will follow Dimitri blindly on his quest for vengeance no matter what the consequences, it is not without reason that we are considered 'dark creatures' by your Ministry. While we are rational and, I like to believe, at many times even compassionate, we tend to view our choices differently than a wizard would. Our natural instincts lead us towards ruthlessness and violence."

"Do you think Anghelescu is going to side with Voldemort?" Harry asked, because it was the only logical choice that he could see from the man's perspective.

Raymond paused, "Dimitri has lusted for power for a very long time and it is now within his sights. For the first time in a 100 years there is legitimate cause to challenge my claim as Patriarch but if he is successful in staging his coup, which I believe is almost inevitable at this point, he will need allies and he doesn't have many other options. You have heard from the Ministry yourself Harry, you know how they view us. We should be working together, quite frankly your Minister should be incredibly grateful for our aid, but instead we are dismissed, humiliated and insulted. If I did not know that things would be even worse once the Dark One took control, I would not be at all tolerant of their behavior, even if we owe you a personal debt."

Harry nodded his understanding, he had seen how the Ministry regarded the vampires and he couldn't blame them for not wanting to help, most times Harry didn't like helping them either. "I'm sorry. They shouldn't treat any of you like that."

Raymond smiled at him, "never apologize for your inferiors Harry. At the risk of sounding impertinent considering the type of relationship we share, allow me say that I am quite proud of the way that you have conducted yourself these past months. You are still so young but you conduct yourself with poise and integrity," he paused and looked at Snape for a long moment before he said, "I feel that you've made quite the impression on your professor this past year Harry. While it is always a gratifying and rewarding relationship for us learn from our elders it a rare and valuable man that is both humble and wise enough to learn from our children."

Harry was sure that his face betrayed the shock that he felt at hearing these words and his eyes shot quickly to Snape's face, which was its usual inscrutable emotionless mask. Harry wasn't sure what to say, he was fairly certain that Raymond was seeing something that didn't exist between the two of them. And yet he was strangely... proud to think that he had had any type of influence on the older man, who had been nicer and more fair to his students in recent months than he had ever been in the past.

He felt that that some small but significant change had happened and that things were irrevocably different, which led Harry make a decision that he knew he never would have considered a year ago.

He took a breath, thinking rapidly as he said, "In that case... the three of us have to come up with a way to make sure that the Clan knows that it can fight against Voldemort without necessarily siding with the Ministry. Raymond, you made it clear the first day I met you that your oath of loyalty was to me, not the Ministry. I've played nice with them so far... but I'm concerned about fighting Voldemort, not padding my CV for later job interviews."

"Harry," Raymond said with a smile, "I advise you to proceed with caution. Your name and status give you certain protections but it would not be wise for you to anger the might of your Ministry. If you become their enemy... they will not be afraid to treat you as such."

Harry nodding, still thinking before turning back to Snape. "Just how busy is Voldemort trying to find the Founder's weapons he's been searching for all year?"

Snape's eyes narrowed to slits, his voice growling with anger, "Potter!"

Harry gave him a look of false innocence but was careful not to push his luck too far. "I told you that I usually find out what's going on, I really don't know why it has to be a secret from me. But my point is, I don't actually care about that right now, what I need to know how focused his attention is on them. I know Voldemort... probably better than anyone at this point as crazy as that sounds and I know that he can be driven to obsession about things and I want him distracted."

Snape hesitated for a moment and then, much to Harry's great surprise, "he is devoting the majority of his resources to that project at the moment. However, he has staked out spies both in the werewolf camp as well as Macnair in the Department of Regulation of Magical Creatures to ensure that he kept abreast of the situation. He knows that war with the werewolves and vampires against the Ministry is the best case scenario for him and he will do everything in his power to facilitate it."

"Then I think we're going to have to in another direction..."

And was how Harry Potter found himself plotting a vampire insurrection against the British Ministry of Magic with a Patriarch of the Clan and Severus Snape of all people.

HPHPHPHP

Harry stepped out of floo in McGonagall's office, relieved to be back at the place that he considered his true home. The Burrow represented family but to Harry Hogwarts would always represent so much more in his life- freedom, self- confidence, the start of the life that he should have had from the start.

"Hello Mr. Potter, please be sure not to spread soot all over my office please."

"No professor," Harry agreed, "how was your niece?"

McGonagall granted him with one of her rare but proud smiles, "she is doing very well, we had a very lovely Christmas. I trust that you can say the same?"

Harry nodded, "Christmas was great," his tone not quite conveying his genuine sentiment because the past tense of the feeling was accurate. The peaceful calm of Christmas made the next few days feel all the more jarring.

Harry made his way back to the Common Room, anxious to see Ron and Hermione both. He very much hoped that the break had allowed both of them to cool down and get past their latest argument because he needed to tell both of them about the Horcruxes as well as his plan for the vampires and he would need Hermione's help with the letters...

Harry knew that they all worked best when the three of them were together. It was as though just being together not only helped them as a group but allowed them to think better as individuals too. He came up with his best ideas when he Ron was making a sarcastic joke or Hermione was worrying herself into a panic by listing out everything they didn't know and he knew the same was true for his friends as well.

Once he got to the Common Room, however, Ron had surgically attached himself to Lavender and Hermione was nowhere to be seen- presumably in her dormitory.

Parvarti approached him, seeing her best friend currently occupied with his. "Good holiday Harry?"

"Very good, yourself?"

Parvati shrugged, "my parents have been tense since it was announced that You-Know-Who is officially back. They've been arguing with Padma and me for months about sending us abroad, back to India, until the war is over. We've been refusing to go so far but after what happened to the Abbots... well I'm not sure that we're even going to have much choice soon."

Harry frowned, "sorry... what happened to Hannah's family?" Due to a rushed couple of days, Harry had not seen his usual copy of the _Prophet_.

Parvarti's eyes widened, "oh damn, sorry I know that you read the paper every day so I assumed you knew. It happened New Years, Death Eaters attacked and killed her mother. Hannah got out along with her little brother but only after her father took the brunt of the curses as a distraction so they could get to their failsafe portkey. He's still in St. Mungo's, in a coma and right now they're not sure that he's going to wake up."

Harry wiped his hand over his mouth and shook his head, "damn is right," he muttered. "Did Hannah come back? Have you seen her?"

Parvati shook her head. "Padma is better friends with her and she went to go see her while she was still sorting things with the hospital. We didn't want to overwhelm her with people and..." Parvati winced, "I haven't always been particularly nice to her in the past." Harry, who knew that Parvati could be a wicked gossip with an even sharper tongue when pointed directly at someone when the mood struck her, did not object to this statement. He had known her to reduce Hermione to tears on occasion back in First and Second Year when Hermione had been more sensitive. "But Padma told me that Hannah is coming back after she settles things with the Auror investigation and she needs to make arrangements for her father if he doesn't wake up."

Harry shook his head, "do you think there's anything we can do?" Harry hated feeling helpless in any situation. Inaction was the most terrible thing in the world to him but he was learning that not all things were fixable and in fact sometimes things were better left alone.

Parvati shrugged uncomfortably, "I think Susan Bones is trying to get something together to help her out but I don't know any details. Speaking of our classmates though," and suddenly her usual flamboyant style was back. "What is going on with Hermione?"

Harry blinked, "what? You mean her taking McLaggen to the Christmas party because that-"

Parvati scoffed and looked at him with mock condescending, "I believe the muggles have a saying about staying in our lane, Harry? When there's some creepy monster in the castle I'll come to you with questions, but when there is complicated relationship drama unfolding I will be taking the lead, thank you. Which is why, believe me, I understand the McLaggen issue better than you."

In spite of himself, Harry chuckled. "Alright if you're so well informed than why are you asking me?"

Parvati shook her head, "because I've been sharing a room with Hermione for five and half years now and I know when something's bothering and she's been in a strange mood since the train. She went mental on a couple of First Year Gryffindors bullying a Slytherin. I mean, Hermione's always been one to enforce the rules but she was in quite a snit over something."

Harry frowned, "well... I know that she was upset before break but I haven't had a chance to talk to her about anything since then. Her parents... don't like me much so I didn't want to write and make things awkward."

"Hermione's muggle parents don't like you? As Hermione... ever explained to her what this little war we're fight in is all about? I mean you're practically the only thing standing between them and genocide," Parvati asked, clearly amused by the irony.

Harry rolled her eyes, "don't make things overly dramatic. I'm not their crusader or anything and you saw what happened at the end of last year after Hermione followed me to the Ministry. Personally I can't really blame them for going a bit spare of over it."

"Well, either Hermione is still mad about what happened before break, or something happened with her parents to upset her."

Harry nodded, resolving to talk to her the next day.

Except that Hermione was frustratingly nowhere to be found at all. She was late to breakfast and sat herself at the end of the table and then proactively placed herself in a seat in class next to someone else so that Harry could not sit beside her. While he knew that he had been rather unsympathetic towards her plight with MacLaggen at the Christmas Party he could not believe that he had upset her so much.

To further complicate things Ron had also absented himself and was stuck to Lavender as though the two of them had been jinxed with some sort of Permanent Sticking Charm. The odd thing was that Lavender on her own was actually better than he had thought. He had always dismissed both Parvati and Lavender as little more than silly girls too interested in their social lives to worry very much about anything important but he had discovered that both had their strengths in unexpected places. When Harry had been forced to approach not only Ron but her as well about causing a possible distraction, she had been quick to help with a surprisingly lack of explanation. She had merely said, "trust me Harry after five years and like half a dozen conspiracy plots around here, I'm willing to just go with the flow when it comes to you. Though I will be getting a full story from you some day, and it had better be of epic proportions."

However, Harry quickly discovered that the relationship between Lavender and Ron was only becoming increasingly annoying and found himself wishing very dearly that things had worked out between Ron and Ernie, who despite outward good spirits, Harry had caught looking at the couple rather longingly. Still, Harry could not deny that Ron and Lavender most definitely shared a passionate relationship. They were either passionately snogging or else passionately arguing. Parvati had laughed at him when he had candidly told her that he didn't see why the two of them had remained together after a particularly nasty row, patting him condescendingly on the cheek as she said mysteriously, "their relationship is not really about... well what someone like you would want from a relationship Harry."

Harry had not understood these rather cryptic words at all and days later was still left trying to figure out whether it had been insult directed at him or them. Ginny had kept a rather firm line against both problems in his closest friendships. She had maintained many times that he had had nothing to do with upsetting Hermione and that it was perfectly normal for people to get absorbed in new relationships when it came to Ron. If anything, she seemed increasingly upset that Harry was frustrated about not being able to talk to them and yet at the same time he had not been able to share with her the details of his meeting with Snape and Raymond.

Due to his new found estrangement from his two greatest allies, Harry had been forced to go it alone and had been busy all week putting his plan into action. He had had to use not only Hedwig but half a dozen school owls to contact the right people and been forced to go to 'detention' with Snape on Wednesday evening to further discuss how the other man had fared on his part of their plan. Over Christmas Harry had worried about the strain that spying on the werewolves had put on Remus but working closely with Snape for the past week had given Harry new respect for the man's stoicism. While he had been in a fouler mood than usual, the stress of his multiple positions between Voldemort, the Order, Hogwarts itself and the vampires had to be mentally exhausting but there were no outward signs of it.

At the meeting the week before, all three of them had agreed that if they had any chance of pulling their plan off than they would have to move extremely quickly. Anghelescu was set to launch his attack and with the mounting pressure on the Ministry to show positive results, they were certain that Ministry response would be swift. Which meant that Harry had spending increasingly late nights either in the library researching what he needed to know or else making his contacts. He been told off in both Transfiguration and Charms or not paying proper attention when he didn't his plans even there- though admittedly working more discreetly lest the other students see what he was working on while he sat in the back desk.

And so it was with increased stressed and a definite lack of sleep over the past week that Harry was swiftly pushed past concern for Hermione's increasingly isolated behavior and straight into anger at her abandonment of him when he had not done anything wrong. Since returning from break she avoided everyone, himself included, and shuffled anxiously between the Library and her own dormitory where she was safe from Ron but Harry was also excluded. Unlike the falling out Ron and Hermione had had in Third Year, Harry had remained determinedly neutral this time and so he had no idea why Hermione had taken to avoiding even sitting near him in class. Hermione had always been studious but now she seemed to study to the exclusion of everything else and though she had won them about 15 points for answering questions correctly, it seemed as though her usual zeal for getting the right answer was absent.

Finally, after a solid week of Hermione dodging him in corridors and jumping up early in the Great Hall every time he sat within proximity of her, he finally lost patience. He wasn't sure if he was angry or hurt by her treatment towards him but he knew that he couldn't let it go on any longer.

Harry was determined to confront her and decided that the best opportunity was after their last class on Friday afternoon, which quite unfortunately was Potions. This had the plus of not including Ron to further drive her away but Snape been in a particularly foul mood and their rather than bond them, tentative alliance in the source of the man's stress had apparently made Harry the focus of his ire. Snape had drilled him with his the kind of bias that had been more common in years past than it had been the last few months, about the various effects certain antidotes had on specific potions, most of which they had not covered in class and were not covered in the traditional class reading. They were only covered in what Snape referred to as 'obvious supplemental material', though obvious to anyone besides Snape and Hermione remained to be seen. Needless to say that when Harry hurried to catch up with Hermione's frantic escape from the room, he did so with less patience than he had originally intended.

He grabbed her by the elbow and steered her into a deserted corridor that was right outside of the dungeons, surprised when she yelped in shock and tried to wrench herself away as though he were a Death Eater attempting to kidnap her. "Harry what the hell? Why would you grab me like that?" she asked breathlessly. She glared at him for taking her away from the beaten path without asking, despite the fact that she had been guilty of dragging him all over the school on occasion without so much as a hint that she was headed anywhere other than the Library. Harry was standing in front of her and she was against the wall and the fact that he had effectively blocked her in seemed to make her only more angry and aggressive towards him.

"Just wanted to make sure that I actually caught up with you for a change before you ran upstairs and I can't find you for the entire the weekend. I sort of figured that this was my last chance. You want to let me know what I did that seems to have pissed you off so much? Because I told you from the beginning that I'm not choosing sides between you and Ron and personally I didn't think you would be the type to want me to." Harry finished aggressively, glaring at her a bit for ignoring him all week when he hadn't done anything to her.

Hermione shifted uncomfortably, hugging her textbook and parchment to her chest and looking to the left and right as though for an exit. "I never asked you to choose sides Harry," she finally grounded out, her eyes looking anywhere than his face.

"No you didn't, so I don't know what you're playing at now, Hermione. You were never that type of girl."

"What do you mean by 'that type of girl'?" Hermione bit out, her eyes suddenly flashing anger towards him.

"The one that plays 'I'm-going-to-say-this-to-your-face-but-you're-supposed-to-know-that-I-really-mean-this' type girls. Lavender does that to Ron all the time and I hate it. You're better than that Hermione, but all of the sudden you're taking Cormac McLaggen on dates just to get Ron jealous? I mean of all people you pick McLaggen? What did you really think was going to happen with that plan?"

Hermione was blinked at his question her anger failing and guilt was beginning to cross her features. Oddly Harry felt a tinge of satisfaction at that look. Hermione was brilliant in so many ways but because he knew her greatest fear to be any kind of failure, she generally refused to admit that she could be wrong in any situation.

He almost couldn't help himself from adding. "I told you that night Hermione, serves you right," he said rather viciously. But Harry's anger faded as he took in the way that Hermione paled as he mentioned her date to the Christmas Party. She was shaking slightly and her breathing was fast and shallow. If he didn't know better he would think that she was starting to have a panic attack. "Hermione…"

She shook her head. "I-I…I shouldn't have asked him to the party…"

Harry frowned in concern, he had never seen her so upset before and he suddenly wished that he had stopped before saying that she deserved to feel bad about it. "Hermione what are you…it's not that big a deal. It's just one stupid party. No one really cares that much about one stupid party."

" _I_ cared Harry! I wanted to go with Ron and…and I was just so stupid! I was so stupid and you're right I only invited Cor- _him_ to get Ron upset but I never wanted…"

Loud racking sobs shook her and she was trembling. Harry stepped forward slowly, bewildered, and pulled her carefully into his arms until they were sitting together on the floor up against the wall. "Hermione… what's really wrong?" he asked her quietly once she had calmed down enough to actually hear him.

Hermione suddenly pulled back. "What do you mean? You already know that I…that I really like Ron," she blushed in spite of herself at the admission. Harry had been so determined to not interfere in his friends chaotic love lives that he suddenly realized that he had never spoken to Hermione about her feelings for anyone before. Occasionally he and Ron would talk about girls, the way most teenage boys talked about anything, but it had always seemed strange to address anything like that with a girl- even if it was Hermione, who was the closest thing to a sister he had ever known.

"You don't have to be embarrassed Hermione," Harry told her gently. She hadn't quite stopped shaking and now that he was looking at her face closely he could see that she had bags under her eyes as though she hadn't been sleeping well. Harry had been so focused on assuming that she had been avoiding him because of something that he had done that he never stopped to consider that she had been avoiding him because she was hiding her own problems from him. "I'm not be an expert on this kind of stuff or anything but I'm also not blind."

"You never said anything," Hermione muttered looking a cross between abashed and annoyed that he would remain silent on such a topic.

Harry shrugged, "I never really thought anything needed to be said. It was between the two of you. If you had wanted to say something to me, you would have, right?"

Hermione nodded fractionally. "It's just…you're his best friend, and mine too. And it's always been the three of us and I wasn't sure…"

"If I would be upset if the two of you got together?" Harry asked letting out a slow breath. He would never have said anything but Hermione was so upset that he thought perhaps she would feel more comfortable opening up to him if he shared something with her. "Well… if I'm being honest I can't say that that the thought of the two of you getting together never freaked me out, but the more I thought about it, the more the two of you as a couple made sense to me. The thing that worried me the most was that if you guys did go out then broke up I would be stuck in the middle. Turns out… that you guys barely have to do that part and I'm stuck in the middle anyway so I guess all my worries were stupid." Harry grinned at her and she let out a shaky laugh. "You're such a git, you know that," she muttered, a few tears slipping out as she calmed down.

"Just putting things into perspective. But to answer your question, it's not really my business what the two of you do. You're both my best friends and I want you both to be happy, whether that means that you're happy together or…separate I guess." Harry finished awkwardly. He took a deep breath before plunging into what he really wanted to say. "But Hermione, I don't think you're this upset because of Ron and Lavender snogging as though they had just invented the concept. I know that something else is bothering you. Why won't you tell me?"

Hermione's eyes grew wide and her posture tensed, she looked at him as though he had lured her somewhere safe and suddenly sprung a trap on her. "Because it's none of your business," she snapped and moved to get up but Harry still had his arms around her and he wasn't about to let go yet. "Let me go Harry!" she shouted, her voice tinged with a kind of panic that didn't fit the situation. She wasn't angry at him for holding her back, she was scared.

"First you have to tell me what's wrong."

Hermione sneered at him in a way that he had never seen before. It was bitter and filled with pain and didn't suit her face at all. "That's a bit rich coming from you, Harry. You love to keep all your little secrets to yourself and get all upset when I ask you about them but now you think that you have the right to ask me?"

Harry felt like he had been struck. Not because of the words, true though they might be, but because of those pain-filled eyes that seemed to be suffering so much. His mind flew through anything he should say but he seemed to be coming up blank. Hermione was the one that was good at saying the right thing in these types of situations. She was the one that was able to figure out what people really meant when they didn't say anything at all. Now she was the one that needed help and Harry felt unable to fill her shoes.

"Alright. You don't have to tell me, I don't have to know anything. But you do need to know that you're my best friend Hermione. You have always been there for me. Even when your parents didn't want you to be. Even when you thought I was being an idiot. I care about you like you were my sister. You're family to me Hermione so even if you don't tell me what is wrong, don't tell me that _nothing_ is wrong."

Hermione's mouth opened slightly and she blinked at him in surprise before swallowing painfully. "I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me Harry. I…I didn't really expect…"

Harry nodded, shrugging slightly and feeling a return of his usual self-consciousness. "I know I'm not always the easiest person to talk to. I never…" Harry swallowed and shifted gears. The last thing he wanted was to turn this around on himself and his experiences with his horrible relatives. "I'm used to handling things on my own and for a long time I guess I just assumed that everyone else was too. But you showed me that sometimes people need to talk, and sometimes people just need someone that's there."

Hermione nodded slowly, tears coming once again but gently this time. She was quiet for a long moment. The corridor was silent. The rest of the school was down at dinner but Harry had lost any appetite that he might have had and was currently grateful that they had a moment of privacy. Hermione finally spoke but her voice was so soft that Harry only heard her because they were so close together.

"You were right. I never…I never should have used Cormac to make Ron jealous."

Harry winced. "Hermione, everyone does stupid things when they're trying to get someone's attention. I shouldn't have gone off on you like that. You didn't do anything any other girl wouldn't have done."

"But I should have known better! I was so, so stupid."

"Hermione you are the least stupid person I know. Give yourself another 10 or, I don't know, 50 years and you'll be smarter than Dumbledore ever was but that doesn't mean that you can't make a dumb mistake. Going to a stupid Ministry party with a bad date isn't the end of the world," Harry reasoned. He was trying to calm his friend down but he had never been good at crying girls. One of his favorite things about Hermione was that she was one of the least emotional girls that he knew. Her love of logic and practicality were far too ingrained for that. But despite the fact that he was genuinely uncomfortable with speaking so openly he was beginning to get the disquieting feeling that he was missing something very important.

"I ruined everything. I shouldn't have…I used him and now Ron will never…" her breathing hitched and she burrowed her face into his robes. Harry rubbed circles into her back, still feeling out of his depth.

"Hermione, let's be honest a minute, and if you ever tell Ron I said this I will deny it till my dying breath, but you and I both know that this 'relationship,'" Harry had to bite out the word because more and more he felt as though the very last thing that Ron and Lavender shared was any kind of a relationship, "isn't going to last. I'm sorry that I jumped down your throat about it. I never wanted you to make you cry. Its just…this isn't like you Hermione. I know that you're upset but did I do something? Did I say something stupid?" He asked searching her face for an answer. Something else was bothering her but Harry couldn't see why she was pulling away from him.

She shook her head dejectedly, her eyes wide and pleading for him not to ask more but he couldn't stop now, he needed to know what was truly wrong. "Then what is it? I always thought that you would at least still be my friend even if it… hurts too much to still be Ron's." Harry added uncomfortably. He was not used to talking about other people's feelings or relationships. He preferred to allow people to work those types of things out for themselves.

She was trembling again and her mouth opened and closed twice before she took a shuddering breath and more tears came out. "I…I can't tell you, it's too hard," she whispered. She pulled away and this time her sleeve came up revealing a fading bruise on her top of her wrist. It was older but Harry had enough experience with bruises to tell that it had been a nasty one. One that had all the ear-marks of fingers that had clenched down far too tightly.

"What is that?" Harry asked her, his voice low and dangerous.

"It's nothing…" Hermione answered quickly, snatching her wrist back quickly, her eyes darting left and right once again. And all of the sudden everything fell into place.

"McLaggen gave you that the night of the ball, didn't he?"

"What? Why would you think that?"

"Hermione, answer the question. Did Cormac McLaggen grab you hard enough to bruise your wrist so badly that it's still fading three weeks later? Because let me tell you something, I know bruises and three weeks is a very long time for a bruise to last. Even a bad one will usually only last about two." Harry didn't even mention that as a witch her body should have healed even faster. He had learned that inadvertently from his primary school nurse who had seen some of his bruises one day only to notice that they were completely gone within a day or two. Harry had always assumed that he was just a fast healer but once he had learned about magic and the longevity of wizards he had discovered that magic helped them not only to heal with spells and potions but their bodies were naturally a bit more resilient. The fact that Hermione was still hurt either meant that the wrist had been broken (something Harry doubted that Hermione could have hidden all this time) or that she had been so upset that her magic had not reacted to help her.

"Harry…" Hermione whimpered.

Harry sucked in a sharp breath. "Hermione," he said quietly, every ounce of control he possessed going into making himself sound calm when he had never felt so close to the edge before, "I swear to you that I won't tell anyone if you don't want me to. But please tell me the truth now. Did…did he hurt you? I…I mean did he…"

Her bottom lip was trembling and her hands were shaking so hard that for a moment Harry thought that the small nod that she gave him was only another tremor but then she whispered. "After you left, Cormac got me alone and he…he raped me, Harry." Sobs- loud, wild and slightly unhinged echoed down the hallway- and Harry held onto her as though she was drowning. Or he was. He wasn't sure who he was trying to comfort in that moment. He wanted to get up that minute and beat the living hell out of the asshole but he knew that Hermione needed him there.

"I'm so sorry that I left you at the party Hermione. And I am so, so sorry that I ever said anything about you getting what you deserve for bringing him along to make Ron jealous. I'm an idiot."

Hermione shook her head, tears still pouring down her cheeks into the shoulder of his robes she pulled back slightly to answer him, her face a blotchy mess. "No, no you were right. I only brought him to use him. I should have realized that leading him on was a mistake, that he would be angry-"

"Hermione!" Harry stopped her sternly, grabbing each side of her face gently in his hands so that she was forced to look him in the eyes. "Not only are you the smartest person that I know, you are the best one. This is _not_ your fault. Don't you ever let me hear you say that again, no…scratch that, I changed my mind- any time you think for a minute that this might be your fault, come to me and say it right away so that I can tell you a hundred times that it isn't."

"Harry you saw what I did. I invited him to an exclusive party. Flirted with him right in front of Ron. I wore that ridiculous dress."

"You looked hot as hell in that dress Hermione and you should get to wear that without owing your date a damn thing. Trust me Hermione, I'm a bloke as well, I know perfectly well what we want to happen on a date, I also know that a real man wouldn't force himself on a girl when she doesn't want him."

"You said yourself that I shouldn't have brought him just to make Ron jealous," Hermione sniffed, her tears had stopped for the moment but Harry thought that was either more to do with exhaustion or possible dehydration rather than from calming down.

Harry sighed and weighed what he should say, he settled on the best version of the truth he could give her. "Alright, I admit that it was a bad call. It wasn't fair to Ron or you, and I suppose McLaggen to use him like that, though at the moment I could care less about the tosser," he added bitterly. "But that still doesn't give him an excuse Hermione and if you think about it, you know that I'm right. There's no excuse for hurting you, Hermione. None."

Slowly, almost reluctantly Hermione nodded her agreement. "I er…don't suppose you told your parents about this over break, did you?"

Hermione gave a bitter scoff, "you're not serious, are you? My parents were already livid over what happened last year at the Ministry, if I told them what happened they would yank me out of Hogwarts in a heartbeat and call this place the worst school on the planet."

"I'm sorry that you've had to go through this all alone, I never should have left you alone with him at the party."

"There was no way that you could have known that he would do that, Harry," Hermione protested. "If its anyone's fault aside from…from Cormac's its mine, but it's definitely not yours."

"Hermione," Harry said, warning in his voice. "It's _his_ fault, not yours. I just…you said yourself that night that you barely escaped from the mistletoe, but I was so busy laying into you to even think about what that could mean, I could have- _should have_ \- said something to him. Cormac might be the size of a mountain but there are a _few_ perks that come with the reputation as the one hope the Wizarding World has against a dark lord- I should have said something to him."

Hermione shook her head and her face resolved itself into a bit of her former, determined demeanor, "I'm not a delicate damsel in distress Harry, much as I appreciate you wanting to defend my honor, it's not your job to go around warning off blokes from dating me."

Harry nodded slowly, thinking of all the times other people had tried to control him 'for his own good'. Hermione was the best witch (or wizard for that matter) in their year and he knew she could handle herself. As if reading his thoughts Hermione answered the question that Harry had not wanted to voice. "He grabbed my wand away from me," she admitted quietly. "If I had been expecting it, he couldn't have done it but it was all so fast and I never…I never thought that he would-"

"If you had had your wand or McLaggen wasn't the size of a two ton whale he wouldn't have stood a chance," Harry told her firmly, hugging her closely to him.

"Hermione," he said hesitantly after another moment. "I know you didn't tell your parents, and I understand why, and you must not have said anything to the professors or McLaggen would have been arrested."

"I don't think that-"

"He's 17, Hermione. He's an adult and he committed a crime, he would be arrested and put in Azkaban and he would deserve it," Harry cut across her firmly before going onto his real point. He lowered his voice so that it was bit gentler when he asked, "Did you go to Madame Pomfrey?"

Hermione grimaced and shook her head, her expression both panicked and guilty. "I know what you're going to say, Harry, I know I should have gone but I just couldn't…I couldn't."

Harry nodded, refraining from giving her an unneeded lecture. She knew what she should have done, but it was over at this point and he refused to lay anymore guilt at her feet. He wondered how important it was for her to go after the fact. He knew enough to know that if a person was raped they should get medical attention as soon as possible but if too much time passed, was it as important? For the first time Harry wished there were practical classes at Hogwarts- sexual education among them.

He was hesitant to give her advice, and his voice sounded stilted and uncertain to his own ears. "I think you should go and get an exam…you know, er…make sure you're alright?" he asked, unsure what he was even referring to. His knowledge of sex consisted of what he had heard in the boy's dormitory late at night and after several butterbeers.

Hermione shook her head, "it's not like with muggles Harry. Most witches and wizards don't have STDs."

"Most?" Harry asked pointedly.

Hermione wrung her hands, "please don't press this Harry, I can't stand the thought of someone… knowing," she finished but Harry knew that was only part of it. Even with a magical exam there would still be a degree of invasiveness and Hermione couldn't stand the idea of being put in a vulnerable position, even with the school nurse.

Harry nodded. "It's your decision."

"Thanks Harry," Hermione said quietly.

"You don't have to thank-"

"I mean for not saying what you want to say right now. I know you want to report him or for me to go to either Madam Pomfrey or to McGonagall but I just…I couldn't stand…"

"It's your choice, Hermione," He repeated despite the fact that she was right, it made him physically nauseous to realize that he was going to get away with it. "You're right, I think that he should be punished and I also think that you should see a doctor…Healer…about er…everything," Hermione gave him a thin smile at his discomfort at the mere mention of the female anatomy and he allowed himself a wry grin before he continued, "but it's your choice. I told you Hermione, you're my best friend and I won't say anything unless you want me to."

Hermione glanced at him, bit her lip nervously. "Not even to Ginny? I know you don't like keeping secrets from her…" She winced, fully aware that the details that he couldn't tell her about his role in the escalating war had been putting a strain on their relationship.

"This isn't my secret to tell," Harry told said firmly. "But… you have _nothing_ to be ashamed about Hermione. I told you, this isn't your fault. You shouldn't have to hide from your friends. I know…you don't have a lot of girlfriends but…I don't know, maybe with something like this…" he trailed off awkwardly unsure how to say what he meant without sounding like he was trying to edge himself out of taking responsibility.

Hermione shook her head, "I don't want to tell anyone else Harry. Not now…maybe not ever. You don't know what people will say…I know that its Cormac's fault, I do…its just…when you're the girl you're never the innocent one…do you understand?"

Harry nodded slowly, he had a feeling that he didn't understand as much as he should but that was for another day. "It might be easier though…talking to another girl."

"Harry, you're my best friend and…I didn't think that I would but I feel better that you know. I'm glad that you know but please don't say anything to anyone else. Please."

"I won't." Harry agreed, holding her close. "Come on, we missed dinner but if we go down to the kitchens we can still get something. Although you might want to let me go in and grab it for you…from what I hear from Dobby you're practically considered the Dark Lord of House-elves," he grinned at her and was rewarded with a very stern lecture on the importance of doing what was right over what people thought they wanted in the moment. As he walked with one arm around her shoulders, Harry knew that Hermione was going to be just fine. It might take some time and it wouldn't be easy, but Hermione would be fine…now Harry had to worry about what he was going to do with Cormac McLaggen.

Hermione was quiet during their solitary dinner, Harry spent the time telling her about some ideas that he had about the Quidditch team. The fact that she never interrupted him or tried to ask him more about his 'lessons' with Dumbledore meant that she was distracted but Harry decided to leave her to her thoughts for the most part even as he continued to talk pointlessly. He knew her well enough to know that she appreciated the slight distraction from her own worry, even if it was only marginally helping.

When they got back to the Common Room, Hermione muttered quietly that she wanted to be alone for a bit. Harry gave her a one armed hug, "Just don't spend all weekend locked up in your dorm studying or something. Come down and talk to me, or hang out with me and Ginny, alright?"

"I won't be very good company…" Hermione hedged.

Harry scowled at her with mock anger, "Hermione, I'm rarely good company but you still put up with me, I can return the favor every now and again. I'm gonna spend some time with Ginny but Hermione if you need me…"

"I'll come find you," Hermione promised, a tentative smile touching her lips. She hesitated a moment before quickly leaning up and over to give him a very quick and slightly awkward kiss on the cheek. Her shyness about a gesture that she had been making for the past two years was like a kick in the gut but he smiled at her nevertheless. He gave her hand a quick reassuring squeeze and nodded as she moved to head up the stairs but before she could make her escape Ginny intercepted them.

"Where have you been? I was looking for you at dinner," Ginny asked, coming up and giving him a warm kiss in greeting. It was a bit friendlier than the typical, 'hello' kiss and Harry caught a not-so-subtle glance that Ginny threw Hermione's way, much to his surprise.

"I finally caught up with Hermione and we had a chance to talk. We wound up skipping dinner and we ate in the kitchens," Harry explained.

"So did you find out what you did to upset her in the first place?" Ginny asked with a raised brow, her tone was neutral but Harry sensed the slight challenge in the words. He had been worried when his best friend had been avoiding him but Ginny had insisted over and over again that he had done nothing to feel bad about.

"Harry didn't do anything. I… I had some things on my mind that I preferred to take care of them myself. Harry and I talked and…"

"And everything is alright now," Harry interjected. The truth was things were far from 'alright' for Hermione at the moment but as Ginny had been talking about the state of their friendship, he did not consider this a lie to his girlfriend while still protecting the secrets of his best friend. There were times when Harry thought fighting Voldemort was simpler than navigating the ins and outs of Hogwarts dating.

"I was just headed up and Harry was anxious to find you anyway," Hermione told Ginny, confirming that she too had noticed the look the red-head had thrown her. "Good night."

"Good night," Harry and Ginny both chorused back.

Once Hermione was safely back up the stairs Ginny pounced on him. "So what's the real story? I told you that it wasn't just you that she was trying not to talk to you, it was everyone. So why was Hermione avoiding everyone like the plague for a week?"

Harry bent down and kissed Ginny, it was nice and slow and he savored it for a moment because he knew that what he about to say was not going to go over well. They broke apart and though Ginny was smiling up at him it was clear that she had not forgotten her question. "I can't tell you. I'm sorry Ginny, if I could I would tell you in a heartbeat but this is Hermione's business and she has to be the one to decide when to tell people."

Ginny's eyes narrowed, her lips pursing for a moment as though she was trying to reign in her temper, from the shade of her flushed cheeks this was not a successful attempt. "Harry," Ginny began with exaggerated patience. "I'm your girlfriend, right?"

Harry blinked and nodded quickly, "yes of course."

"Well than you should acting like it," she demanded strongly. "You have all of these secrets that you never want to share with me! How do you think that makes me feel?"

Harry bit back his frustration at having the same argument yet again. He should have known that this was where this conversation was headed. "Ginny…we've been over this. It's not that I don't trust you or that I don't think you have a right to know, it's that I can't tell you. The information that I get from Dumbledore about the war…it's dangerous Ginny. I told you from the start that I will tell you everything that I can- and believe me when I tell you that I tell you a lot more than most people think that I should! But the things that I can't tell, I have a good reason for keeping them a secret. I know you don't believe this but I tell you a lot more than what I don't tell you."

"You're right, I don't believe that at all! Sometimes you're gone for hours, Harry, and you come back and you manage to catch me up in a few minutes, do you think that I'm stupid enough to think that you tell me everything?"

Harry bit back a sharp retort that it was stupid to think he would go over every single word of the meetings that he had and struggled to be understanding. He knew that Ginny was frustrated by what he couldn't tell her, truth be told he was frustrated as well. Frustrated by everything that he couldn't say, everything that he still didn't know, and everything that was still expected of him when he was still so unprepared.

"Ginny, I don't think that you're stupid at all, you should know that by now. Dumbledore doesn't like to get straight to the point of anything, he spends a lot of time going around an issue and waiting for me to understand it for myself. I'm more direct when I tell you things."

"I just think that you're being a hypocrite for being so upset that no one told you anything last year and you're doing the same thing with me!" Ginny yelled out, their quiet discussion had now grabbed the attention of the entire Common Room and Harry felt his own face heat with a combination of embarrassment at being made a spectacle of, and anger at Ginny for making what should have been a private conversation so public. Ginny had a hot temper, he had known that from the start with her and she had reached her boiling point

"Ginny," Harry hissed, his own temper dangerously close to the surface. "You know that I don't want to discuss this here."

"The point I'm trying to make is that you never want to discuss anything, anywhere! Forget everything else for a minute, you won't even tell me what you were doing with Hermione! What am I supposed to think when my own boyfriend goes off with another girl and then says that he can't say anything about it!"

There was a murmur of disapproval from the women of Gryffindor at this remark and Harry knew that Ginny was playing to the crowd now. He was furious that she had managed to twist the situation to make it look as though protecting the secrets of a friend meant that he was betraying his girlfriend or sneaking around on her.

"What exactly are you suggesting Ginny?" Harry asked, his voice quiet but he was unable to keep the anger entirely out of his voice. He wanted her to be the one to put it into words. He was still emotionally drained from everything he had learned from Hermione and his body felt tight with anger. He had a desire to leave the argument before either of them said or did something that they would regret. He did not know how this conversation had deteriorated so quickly. He could see Ron glaring at him and he knew that even after this argument was settled he was going to be in for another one.

"I think you know exactly what I'm 'suggesting' Harry. What were you and Hermione doing that was so important that you skipped dinner and now don't want me to know about?"

The disapproval of the crowd was growing and quite a few people joined in with their own questions. Harry looked at Ginny and felt for a moment as though he didn't know her. There were so many wonderful things about Ginny- her humor, her courage, her straightforward advice. She was beautiful, but it was the fire in her eyes, that blazing look that she had, so filled with determination and grit that had captivated his attention. She was so much more than the other girls their age and he loved that she was filled with passion and determination.

But this was a side of her that he had not been prepared to handle. If he truly believed that Ginny was concerned about what he and Hermione had been doing together, he might have felt a bit guilty for not being able to say more, he might have even excused her behavior in challenging him in front of the entire Common Room, but he knew that Ginny was using the possibility of scandal simply to get what she wanted and found that more than anything he was hurt by the manipulation of it. Ginny of all people knew that nothing was going on between Hermione and himself, but by challenging the idea in front of everyone when she knew firsthand how much he hated being the center of attention she was hoping to provoke him into spilling his secrets. Harry spent so much of his time trying to avoid being manipulated by others- by Dumbledore, by Snape and by the Order and the Ministry- but he was not prepared for it by his own girlfriend.

"Ginny, Hermione is my one of my best friends. She and Ron…they're like family to me. You knew that when we started going together so I'm not even sure where this is coming from. If you have a question about Hermione, you should ask Hermione- not me. I…" Harry stuttered over his words, so unused to saying such things out loud. "I care about _you,_ Ginny. I won't lie to you but when I tell you that I can't tell you something it's because it's not my right to tell. If you care about me that means that you should trust me."

"Maybe I'm tired of just trusting you, Harry." Ginny said coldly, she pushed past him and ran upstairs to her own dorm. A few girls followed, others argued with him as he tried to call her back down the stairs but when he turned he knew that he had other problems to deal with.

Ron was glaring at him.

Harry glanced at the clock, there was still plenty of time before curfew. "Can we do this outside?" Harry asked wearily. He couldn't believe that it was so early, the evening had seem to have dragged on for ages.

Ron looked momentarily surprised by the request but he collected himself quickly and arched his brow, saying shortly. "Room of Requirement, I don't think either of us needs the audience."

"Fine, I'll follow you."

 **A/N: I suppose many of you either forgot, or assumed I had forgotten, the warning in the beginning of the story about the implied rape of a female character but I did tell you it would be in much later chapter.**

 **Please tell me what you think- next chapter: big action and an even bigger surprise for Harry and Ginny's relationship**


	30. Things Fall Apart

**Chapter 30: Things Fall Apart**

Harry paced the Seventh Floor Corridor, thinking of a place where he and Ron could have a private conversation. He suddenly felt incredibly tired. The worry that he had felt about his friendship with Hermione had turned into anger and concern on her behalf. He did not know what he was going to do about his relationship with Ginny. He cared deeply about her, part of him thought that he even…loved her. He had never felt the way he felt for Ginny about anyone else in his life but it was strange for him- no matter how many times Dumbledore extolled the great power of love that he possessed, Harry remained, at his core, a boy that had grown up alone in a locked cupboard. He had never been shown love, never been told by his family that he _was_ loved. The one time that he remembered someone saying that he was loved, it was in that dreamlike vision from the summer. He couldn't stop the nagging feeling of doubt that he was sure was his own neuroses that was telling him to hold himself back from making that full commitment that he knew a better person would have made by now.

The room that he entered with Ron was small but cozy. There was a warm fire, a sofa and two armchairs were present and the stone floor was covered by a furry rug. The couches were a dark brown color and stood out against the crème colored rug and light wood table. The place had the look of a classy but comfortable living room, perfect for an intimate conversation.

"Not bad," Ron said approvingly, his face still stern. He turned to face Harry, his arms folded across his chest and then seemed to think better of holding such a defensive stance. He moved and took a seat in one of the armchairs. Harry sat on the sofa, hoping to communicate that he would have been comfortable if the two of them sat together, he had no reason to fight with Ron and hoped the other boy realized that soon enough as well. He was actually rather surprised the red-head had kept his cool. Ron also possessed the infamous Weasley temper and had always been protective of his little sister. He had been wanting to talk with Ron since their return from the Burrow as he had felt certain that his best friend had wanted to talk to him about his discussion with the Mind Healer but Ron had almost studiously avoided him until this point.

"You promised me that you weren't going to hurt my sister."

"I promised that I would never _intentionally_ hurt her and I've kept that promise," Harry said firmly.

"Then what the hell was that upstairs?" What had started out as fairly calm discussion had just crossed a threshold and the words had exploded out at Harry with vitriol. "Ginny was pretty damn upset and she's not one to make things out of nothing."

Harry took a breath, the fight with Ginny was about a lot more than what Ron had heard but at the same time there was a lot that Harry didn't understand either. There was also the fact that Hermione was involved- if only peripherally- which meant that Ron's objectivity was compromised. "Ginny is mad that I can't tell her everything about my meetings with Dumbledore. She knows that I tell you and Hermione everything and she doesn't see why I can't tell her as well."

Ron raised his brow at that, clearly surprised that Harry had addressed this first but he did not appear shocked that this was at least partly related to the fight down in the Common Room. He dragged a hand down his face and let out a long sigh before he finally said, "Alright, to play Gin's side for a moment, why _can't_ you tell her everything that you tell me and Hermione?"

Harry's own eyes widened at that, he had not expected Ron to support telling Ginny more than she needed to know. "You think that I should?"

"I didn't say that, I wanted to know why you think you should tell your two best friends and not your girlfriend."

"You don't tell Lavender about what I tell you do you?" Harry asked sharply.

"No, of course not!" Ron scoffed.

Harry raised a quizzical brow and Ron shrugged defensively. "First off, it's not my secret to tell, its' yours so it's not the same thing and second of all, Lavender… we just don't spend a time of talking, you know? It's not really like that with us."

Harry nodded, thinking back to his conversation with Hermione when he had told her that he didn't think that Ron and Lavender were in it for the long haul. "But you and Ginny were different I thought," Ron pressed.

"We are," Harry answered, a bit insensitively. He shrugged and sighed as he prepared to explain. "I do tell her... most of it. I told her about Riddle and how he grew up and I told her about some of the training that the Ministry is wanting me to do. The lessons with Tonks."

"But you haven't told her about the real prophesy, have you?"

"No," Harry admitted quietly.

Ron frowned but it wasn't in anger or even disappointment but as though he was trying to understand where Harry was coming from. "Why not? I mean I can see keeping it a secret from the _Prophet_ or even the Ministry but why not tell Ginny or even some of the others about it?"

"Dumbledore told me-"

Ron rolled his eyes, "come on Harry, you know damn well if you wanted to tell her you wouldn't give a shit what he said. If you have reasons for not saying anything, at least admit that they're your own and you're not just following orders from Dumbledore."

Harry grimaced but admitted that Ron had a point. Dumbledore's words of caution had certainly guided his decision, and provided the perfect excuse when necessary, but they were not the real reason for his reluctance to include Ginny on his inside information on the war. He let out a slow breath before he admitted quietly, "There are a few reasons. One…I don't want Ginny to have to constantly worry that I'm going to die-"

"You're not going to-"

"I might, Ron," Harry interrupted harshly, not in the mood to sugar-coat his situation. "It's alright, it's a war- it's not like I'm the only one who's life is endanger and prophesy or no prophesy I always knew that it was possibility." Ron was quiet a moment, his jaw was clenched and there was a look in his eyes that Harry couldn't quite interpret, but rather than push forward with the topic of Harry's potential death he switched tracks.

"Fine but Ginny was always going to worry. Even if she doesn't know the prophecy... or even if you didn't want to tell her, that still doesn't explain the rest of it. So _why keep it a secret_?" Ron pressed.

"Ginny's a year younger than us. She's a good fighter, you've seen her Bat-Boogey and you saw that she could hold her own in the Ministry but she's still not ready…she can't fight with us Ron. This war is picking up a lot faster than anyone expected. I can see it when I talk to the Ministry or to Dumbledore- no one thought that Voldemort would move as fast as he has. There's going to come a time… damn it!" Harry growled in frustration bending forward and dragging his hands through his hair anger. He stood swiftly and starting pacing finally giving voice to the biggest problem of all.

"A part of me knew that I shouldn't have gotten together with her. I'm sorry Ron. I know that's not what you wanted to hear. You wanted me to tell you that I could do right by your sister- she deserves that much and a lot more- but the truth is, I don't know what's going to happen." He stopped his pacing and turned to look at his first and best friend straight on. "I…I think I love her, Ron," he admitted so quietly that it was barely above a whisper, his face lowered to ground. He picked is head up when Ron didn't say anything and found his best friend looking at him wide-eyed and a little pale.

"The truth is, I'm selfish, I want to protect her. And there's even more to this whole thing than I've been able to tell _you_ even... but we're not going to worry about that right now. The truth is... I don't want her to know! I want her the hell away from all of this!"

Ron let out a slow breath before he spoke, his voice low and hesitant, "listen Harry... you can't protect her from everything."

Harry looked up in surprise, not expecting Ron to say that at all. Ron grimaced and nodded, "I know, Ginny is my sister and believe me, if I thought it would work I would get Fred and George to trick her into taking an International Portkey and stranding her in Africa until the war is over but that's not Ginny. That's not any of us mate. You might... Harry you might be the one that is going to kill V-Voldemort but you sure as hell aren't going to be fighting this war alone. Now I get what you're saying. Personally I know firsthand that Ginny's biggest problem is that she hates being the youngest and loves to jump into things before she's ready, so if you're not telling her because you know it's a bad idea for the war... then I understand but if you think that by not telling her, Ginny's going to forget that the rest of her family and her boyfriend are in a war... you're barking, mate."

Harry blinked in surprise. "But... I know that she hates not knowing but...Ron we're going to be 17 and that means that we can use magic outside of school, Ginny can't. She's not the same."

"No but is the reason that you're not telling her things because she can't use magic or because you're worried that it will make things... real between the two of you."

Harry gaped, "what?"

Ron winced and shot him a sympathetic look, "I spent a long time talking to Sarah the day before New Years and I'm not sick or anything like my uncle but I also learned that everyone has... issues that they have to work past. I've spent my entire life," Ron looked down at his hands and took a deep breath before he admitted, "my whole life feeling like I would never be as good as my brothers."

"Ron-"

Ron held up a hand, "I don't need to hear it right now, I don't want to talk about it, well not yet, but my point is... even though I knew how I felt... I didn't realize that it affected a lot of things in my life. Harry... the Dursleys were bloody awful to you," Ron raised his hands quickly as Harry had the objection on his lips, "and I know that you got past that, I do. But I don't think that you always realize that other people are not the Dursleys. And that you don't have to act the same with them as you do with the muggles. Like I said Harry, if you really have good reason not to share certain things with Ginny than that's your choice but I've never known you not to do something just because it scares you and I don't think you should start with this."

And it bothered Harry immensely that he couldn't rightly answer his best friend's question, not even in his own mind.

HPHPHP

Harry had a restless night of sleep, or lack of sleep would have been more accurate. His worries about Hermione ran through his cluttered mind right alongside his argument with Ginny and his conversation with Ron. He wondered if Ron was right, if he should confide more in Ginny. What he had been so sure were strong and noble reasons, important reasons, for keeping silent were sounding more and more in his own mind as merely excuses to pull back from a real relationship. Ron had been unusually perceptive the previous night, it was usually Hermione (or even Luna) that was better at pointing at those difficult home truths to Harry. Was he scared? Or was he simply making things more difficult than he needed to.

The dawn had just peaked through the slit in his curtains when Harry finally abandoned all hope and got out of bed. He made his way down to the Common Room, surprised that he was grateful that it was empty. He had been alone with his troubled thoughts all night and had risen with a vague intention of finding someone- _anyone_ \- that he could talk to, even if it was just about Quidditch or his classes. All he wanted was a small break from his own thoughts. But when he had come down to a cold fireplace and silent room, he was strangely relieved. It suddenly occurred to him exactly who he wanted to hear from.

"Accio lockbox"

Harry's summoning charm brought his parents journals to him and for the first time in weeks he found himself curled up and reading over their words of wisdom to him. He had one final letter from his father, that he had put off reading until now, telling himself that he wanted to savor the letters for as long as possible. In the back of his mind the longer that he put off reading the final letter the longer he felt as though he had something to look forward to. But for the first time in his life Harry felt like he was going to his father for advice.

 _October 10_ _th_ _, 1981_

 _Dear Harry-_

 _I snuck out of the house last night. I hope when you are reading this you can appreciate the true irony of a father having to confess to his infant son that he was forced to sneak out of his own house as a grown man. As you know, you, your mother, and I are in hiding. In a lot of ways we should have been under protection for a lot longer but the risks of the war had always seemed less important than standing up and fighting in it. It was only when we had you to worry about protecting as well that your mother and I knew that we could not continue to put ourselves in harms' way, no matter what the cost was to the world. I hope that you don't think us selfish people, or maybe love is always a bit selfish. Sacrificing yourself is at times a much easier prospect than sacrificing someone that you truly love._

 _I wish I could tell you that I had snuck out for something important or because I needed to help someone in the Order, but the truth is I left because I couldn't stand being locked in this house another second. And now I know that I sound selfish. Do you ever find that you hate being trapped in small spaces? Or that the idea of not having the freedom to do as you like or make your own choices is more suffocating than an actual body-bind? I watch you grow day by day, exploring the world around you, starting to ask questions, and I wonder what type of person you'll become. Will you take after me? I've always found it hard to stay still. For as long as I can remember I have always felt the need to break out of the confines of my life. When I was younger there was no place I didn't like to see and explore, when I was a teenager I loved pushing the boundaries of what I could get away with because with every prank or midnight adventure that I did, what I found was freedom and yet at the same time it gave me control of my own destiny. Lily has never understood that. Perhaps because your mum is such a contented person that she has never felt trapped by the ordinary. If that's true, I hope you take after her._

 _But if you take after me, a dark-haired handsome man with incredible Quidditch skills, allow me for a minute to give you some well-learned but hypocritical advice. I say hypocritical because it took me a long time of doing the wrong thing to come to my senses and if someone older had told me what I'm about to tell you, I doubt that I would have listened. I say well-learned because, dear son, I was once forced to take a long look at the sort of person that I was becoming and there was a time when I didn't like what I saw. I am both very lucky and very grateful that I was able to change when I did. But this is not a confession of all of my sins (perhaps my next letter, son, I'll have to stack up on some parchment for that one)._

 _My advice to you is this: look at the people in your life and decide who is most important and then do anything that you can to care for them and protect them. Life is really that simple. I hope that you are looking at this right now and rolling your eyes that I would tell you something so easy, but then again you would be surprised how complicated we makes things. I told you that I struggle sometimes with staying in one place for too long, I always have. I can't really say why. I always loved my house growing up and I loved being at Hogwarts when I was still in school but a part of me has always felt a need to travel outside of what was comfortable. Your grandmother used to call me a restless spirit._

 _However, I told you that my lesson was well learned- tonight I snuck out this house but I got as far as the front steps before I turned around. I have longed to be outside, to see other people, to look at something other than these four walls, for many months now, but as I took my first hurried steps of freedom, I realized that I missed your mother. That I was worried that you might wake up and need me. That's when I came back inside and decided to write this letter to you. I can be a very selfish person Harry, it's something I'm not proud of but I know that it's true. However, I think that the only thing we can do is learn from our mistakes and learn to use our flaws as assets. I now know there is nothing more that I want in the world than to protect you and your mother. To be there for you when you need me, to be around when you want me. There are a lot of distractions in this world and there are many times when we get caught up in doing what we think we have to do, but when it comes to love I think you're allowed to be selfish. So learn from your daft old dad- be selfish with the people that you care about. If you find yourself unsure of what to do, think about how your decisions will affect the people around you. If you don't know who to trust, trust with your heart, it will never steer you wrong._

 _I have been blessed in my life with the best friends that I could ever ask for and a woman that I am in awe of every day. I once thought that I was the luckiest man in the world but then I was somehow given even more- I have you now. If you have to read this letter one day Harry, I hope you know that as I sit here next to your crib, I have never been happier to be home._

 _Love, Dad_

Harry closed the letter and allowed himself a weary sigh. A single tear rolled down his face, he could scarcely believe what he had just read. He had wanted answers so badly, wanted real advice and here it was. His father had had told him what to do.

He would tell Ginny everything. Ministry and Dumbledore's warnings be damned. His father was right, by keeping all of these secrets close to the vest, by dictating what Ginny could and couldn't do, he was being selfish in a way. He thought about his father's letter, how he had confessed that he had always been restless. Harry was not quite the same way, at least not in the sense that he had been fleeing from something comfortable. Harry had never known comfort. That was his problem. He remembered what Hermione had said to him last year, about the fact that he had a 'saving people thing'. Was that why he didn't want Ginny to know more? Was it simple fear that he could lose her? Was he protecting his heart by keeping her at a distance even while convincing himself that he was saving her life?

"Harry?" the soft voice broke into his thoughts and Harry started in his seat.

"Oh Hermione…are you alright? It's still early, isn't it?"

Hermione nodded, coming closer now that she had his attention, "it's just a little after half past 7, just about everyone else is still asleep but I thought you might be up. I heard about your row with Ginny. Are you alright?"

"You got up this early to see if I was upset about a fight with my girlfriend?" Harry asked her skeptically. "Are you sure you're alright?"

Hermione huffed impatiently. "I…had a bit of a nightmare. I woke up but the sun was up and…there was really no sense in going back to bed."

Harry was eyeing her in concern. He was trying to figure out what to say when she interrupted him with her usual briskness, "And _no_ , I don't have nightmares every night, I expect part of it was talking about it right before I went to bed. You better not start asking me how I'm doing every time I see you Harry or you're going to drive me mad. It's not that early, if it wasn't the weekend we would be up anyway. Besides, the Ravenclaws have been hogging the best tables in the library for the past week, the Fifth and Seventh Years have been doing Charms projects and it's been a nightmare! But now I can be sure to get there first."

Harry grinned at her, "you show them, Hermione. Use one of your mad little charms to jinx the table and let them know who's boss, yeah?"

"Harry! I wouldn't do that," she scolded, offended but she was laughing just the same. "What were you reading? You looked like… well are you alright?"

Harry pursed his lips, "you should really take your own advice Hermione," he told her mildly. She gave him a good natured smirk, unapologetic of her hypocrisy and Harry grinned in spite of himself, glad that Hermione was falling back into her usual bossy self. He relented by saying, "I'm fine. You've seen the journals that Sirius left me, well that my mum left me…" he scratched the back of his neck awkwardly and gave her a sheepish grin, "you know that you're in trouble when you have to go through _layers_ of Wills from the people that have died around you to get something that was passed on."

"Harry! That's awful."

Harry shrugged, "But true. Anyway, you've seen the potion's book that you hate…"

"I don't hate…" Hermione protested weakly.

"You hate it," Harry steamrolled her. "You hate that I've using different instructions, you hate that if it were anyone but Snape I would be making Os in the class and even he hasn't been able to mark me lower than an Exceeding Expectations and most of all Hermione, you hate that whoever HBP was, he was better at Potions than you."

"You still don't know…"

"I told you, it's a bloke. And don't go on again about how I'm sexist, when I'm not. Being a feminist isn't about crediting women with things that they didn't do just because they could have. My mum was brilliant, I love reading her notes, you know that, and Hermione, I have told you over and over again that you're the smartest person that I know. But HBP is a bloke and if he was in class with us now he would be better than you," he told her firmly.

Hermione took in a shuddering breath and released it slowly, for a minute Harry thought that he was going to be on the receiving end on the type of lecture that she usually reserved for Ron but after a minute she said softly, "I suppose you're right, but no matter how much you justify it, actually using his directions is cheating Harry and you should stop."

Harry grinned at her, "not going to happen. But anyway…back to what I was doing this morning. Along with the books, my parents, both of them that is, left some letters for me. I was just reading the last one that I had left from my Dad."

Hermione looked at him in surprise. "You didn't tell me that they had left you letters."

Harry gave her a wry smile, "I didn't want to have to talk about it. They were private but…" he shrugged, looking at her embarrassedly, "but you were open with me and I rather thought that I owed you."

Hermione looked at him incredulously, "owed me?" her tone dangerously low and her eyes narrow as slits. "Is that what you think of our friendship now? We only tell each other things because we 'owe' each other?"

"You know that's not I how I mean it, I just… look Hermione I'm not… I'm trying," he finished weakly. Trying to help her, trying to open up when it was so hard for him.

Hermione's anger melted from her face. "I know. What was the letter about?" she asked.

Harry handed the letter to her wordlessly, for a moment she looked surprised that he was handing over the whole thing and not simply summarizing what he felt comfortable telling her. She read it quickly and looked up at him sympathetically. "Did it…help you?"

Harry looked back at the letter, taking it carefully back so as not to damage the aging parchment and nodded, "It's actually kind of amazing how much it helped me. Somehow it was it was just what I needed to hear."

"What do you mean?"

"I decided that I should tell Ginny everything. About my meetings with Dumbledore, what's been going on at the ministry, all of it."

"The prophesy?" Hermione asked in surprise.

"Yeah that as well. Ginny and I have been rowing about this for a while, she wants to know more and I keep telling her that's its dangerous, or that I can't and the whole time I've been convincing myself that I have these great reasons not to tell her, but I don't, do I? Not really. I was thinking about it all last night and I had pretty much decided then that I was going to tell her, but I was still…" Harry shrugged unsure how to relate that final hesitation that he had felt. The lingering doubt that he should keep quiet that he was now convinced was more about himself and his fears, than it had ever been about Ginny. "It comes to this, do I trust her, or not? And I do."

Hermione was nodding but the smile that she gave him was uncertain, surprising him. It seemed as though his two best friends had switched roles- he had expected Ron to be against telling Ginny anything dangerous and had expected Hermione to champion anything that caused him to be more open with the people around him. "You don't think it's a good idea?" he asked her. "You know that I tell you everything, why is Ginny any different? Come to that…no offense Hermione but I rather think that at a certain point there should be more things that I tell Ginny than you. You understand, don't you?" he asked her gently, not wanting to upset her. Hermione had always had a special role in his life, part friend, part sister, even part mother on occasion and perhaps she felt... threatened.

Hermione scoffed, "About your relationship? Absolutely Harry. I certainly hope you're sharing more with your girlfriend than with me. I'm happy to see that you're not _that_ completely helpless at relationships. To be honest I was bit worried about you when it came to opening up to Ginny and thought it might cause problems. I know how you like to keep things private, especially when you think it makes you… look weak but relationships need trust. I'm glad that you're opening up to her. You need that, and so does she. But this isn't about sharing your feelings or…or even talking about your parents," she said apologetically, "this is about information that's important to the war and…" she weighed her words carefully.

"Listen Harry, if it were anyone but you I would be worried that you were jumping at the first girl that you had any interest in and throwing yourself straight in, but I know that you're careful about who you trust and that your trust takes time to build. Still… well, now don't take this the wrong way, Harry, but… we are still in school and you've seen how long most people's relationships last around here. I suppose I just want to ask…are you sure about this?"

Harry's gut reaction was to be offended but Hermione's tentative expression made him pause to consider. Seamus had been out with three girls in as many weeks. Susan Bones had ditched one bloke from Ravenclaw only to find herself with a fellow Hufflepuff hours later, and there were quite a few rumors that it had started before that…

"Hermione, I know what you're trying to say and I also know that it drives you mad when I don't do exactly what Dumbledore or the Order want but…Dumbledore trusted me to tell who I thought I could trust. And I trust Ginny completely. I…I love her."

Hermione looked up at him, clearly startled before breaking out in the first genuine smile that he had seen on her in weeks, "Oh Harry that's wonderful! I am so, so happy for you! There is no one that deserves to be happy more than you do, I hope you know that."

"I don't know if anyone 'deserves' to be happy, don't you think that everyone should get the chance?" he asked her gruffly. She smiled at him fondly, kissing his cheek, "and that's why you deserve it Harry."

Harry would have protested further but he was interrupted by a burst of flame and suddenly Fawkes was there, squawking once loudly and dropping a note on Harry's lap before disappearing just as spectacularly. Harry looked at the empty space, stunned, before quickly unrolling the parchment.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked urgently.

"It's Raymond…" Harry muttered, he could feel the color draining from his face and he caught Hermione's look of alarm.

"The Ministry is going after the village, the vampires attacked the werewolves and they're using it as a reason to take out both groups at once. Fuck!" Harry yelled in frustration. He had known that this is what they Ministry would do, but he somehow still disappointed in how short sighted they were. How unwilling the Wizarding World could be about bending their own prejudices even when faced with crisis.

"What?" Hermione yelped in surprise. "But the vampires have been on our side."

Harry shook his head, "It's more complicated than that, that's what I was working on over Christmas." Harry shook his head, "I have a lot to tell you but I don't have the time right now. Long story short, the Raymond's Clan... isn't really his clan anymore. If they launched an attack that means that Dimitri Anghelescu has taken over and is going to put revenge against the werewolves top of his priority list. And that means that the Ministry is going to use this as an excuse to get an easy victory after they've been getting their asses kicked for months by the Death Eaters."

"Alright, but what does this have to do with Dumbledore sending you an urgent letter before 8 am on a Saturday? And honestly speaking…does Dumbledore ever sleep?"

"I'm fairly certain that he doesn't. But he's contacting me because most the vampires seem to trust me, or at least more than the Ministry but the Ministry is forced to at least listen to what I have to say. But more importantly and... well like I said I have a lot to tell you, but Snape and I have a plan to sort all this out but we have to move now." Harry said as he pulled the _other_ letters out of his box, unlike his parents' letters the parchment was new, crisp and all headed with various official seals from foreign governments.

Hermione was still processing the news that Harry and Snape had apparently formed some sort of unholy alliance as Harry raised his wand to summon his robes and invisibility cloak, he was in a rush and didn't want to go back up and risk waking up his dormmates, not only would it be rude but they would only hold him up with questions. "Hermione, do me a favor yeah, tell Ron…er sorry," remembering that the two of them weren't speaking, "tell Ginny that I need to cancel Quidditch practice…wait, no don't tell her that, either she or Ron can run it but can you tell her that I that I won't be there? Hooch doesn't strictly like it when the team practices without the Captain but between Ron and Ginny we'll be fine," he muttered, more to himself than to her. His mind was skimming over anything else that he needed to take care of when he remembered.

"Also…sorry this is might be awkward, I know you don't know her that well, but I was also supposed to meet with Daphne in the library at 2, I might be back by then but I really have no idea how long this will take. Will you tell her something came up?"

"Of course but when it comes to Daphne, what should I really say? I doubt you want her to know where you've gone but she'll want a better excuse than 'something came up', surely?"

Harry was hastily pulling on his robes, heedless for the moment of Hermione, who had equally hastily turned around as he had pulled off his pajama top. "Hermione, you know that I'm not the girl in this situation?" he asked her, chuckling in spite of his rush. "What exactly are you turning away from?"

He could see the embarrassment in the way that she hunched her shoulders forward and was sure that if she were facing him her face would be scarlet. "It's…forget it, Harry. But what should I tell Daphne?"

Harry thought quickly. "You can tell her that I had to meet with Dumbledore but don't give her any details, she knows enough to know that I meet with him sometimes."

"She knows that?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Hermione, I have had so many meetings come up this year it was kind of ridiculous to hide it entirely from my study partner. It was less suspicious to tell her something than to mysteriously disappear constantly. Besides, between the _Daily Prophet_ articles and the general gossip in the school, even if I've never confirmed anything, everyone reckons they know something about the 'Chosen One', I figure just let her imagination run with it."

Harry had just enough time to see that Hermione was giving him a look of appraisal mixed with surprise as he shouted out another thanks and ran for the Dumbledore's office.

HPHPHP

Harry raced to the Headmaster's office, using every short cut and secret passage that he knew, skidding to a halt in front of the gargoyle. He was met by a rather surprised Snape who had just gotten there himself. "Unusually prompt for a Gryffindor, you must have sensed the word 'danger' and gotten all a flutter."

"Or maybe I just learned my way around the castle a bit better than you," Harry said evenly, as they made their way up the revolving staircase. Changing swiftly from banter to business, Harry asked, "Did you get the sample we needed?"

"Do not mistake me for one of your incompetent compatriots Potter, I do not fail in simple tasks."

Harry rolled his eyes a bit but resigned himself to feeling satisfied that the first part of their plan was still viable. He had known that they would have to work quickly but he had thought that he would have a little more time. And the first part of that plan was giving Snape plausible deniability so that he could maintain his cover with Voldemort.

The past week had opened Harry's eyes to what he should have seen all along, Snape had spent the year on a tightrope, balancing his position precariously between being a spy for Voldemort and being a spy for the Order, add in the fact that he was supposedly one of the peace negotiators for the Ministry while ostensibly derailing the process in favor of maintaining his cover with the Dark Lord and even Harry could admit that he was impressed. But for their plan to work there could be no room for doubts or playing devil's advocate. They needed everyone on board and that meant bringing someone that would take a definitive stand. Unfortunately, there was no one that Harry and Raymond could agree could be both a viable chaperone from Hogwarts and be able to do the job properly since most of the Hogwarts professors were seen as biased towards Dumbledore and therefore mistrusted by the Ministry. There was only one person whose opinion would be accepted by the Ministry almost without question but there was no guarantee of getting her to agree willingly... which meant they had to fake it.

Luckily Snape had quite the stock of Polyjuice Potion.

"Thank you both for coming so quickly," Dumbledore greeted them, his usual genial tone replaced with the no nonsense tone of a man that was used to dealing with delicate and important affairs. "I must warn you Harry, that the situation is dangerous. The Ministry officially raided the town of Cresent Nest at dawn this morning and at the moment they are in engaged in an active battle. Under ordinary circumstances I would never dream of sending a student into such a situation but you have proven that I can trust you to determine which tasks that you feel up to doing and also I trust Professor Snape can protect you better than any other person I know. But I must ask you now- are you _certain_ you wish to proceed? There is no obligation to come to their aid Harry, the vow of loyalty from Kováč Clan was to you, and not intended to be reciprocal, I trust you understand that. You play an important role both in the war and within our society but as I discussed with you this summer, you are not the only one that must play an important role."

Harry nodded, a year ago he might have felt that Dumbledore was trying to talk him out of going and been insulted but he understood the significance of what they were doing and had the confidence of knowing that not only Dumbledore but surprisingly Snape believed him capable of making a differnece, but they wanted to make sure that he felt the same way. "Yes sir and I want to go, I'm ready."

Snape turned to him and spoke next, his expression solemn and serious, there was no trace of his usual sneer or bitter sarcasm, instead he was singularly focused on what they were about to do. "Potter, you and I have our difficulties, neither of us is blind to that but the moment we step through the fireplace it is absolutely imperative that you listen to my every command. We both know that you are playing the role of the leader but when I tell you to do something it is not a suggestion or a cheap power play- it is absolutely essential that you listen to me. Are you willing to do that, because if you are going to be stubborn and insistent that you know better than 20 years of experience in such affairs I have no interest in entering a potential warzone with you."

Harry let out a slow breath. He had been working closely with Snape for several months now and the nature of their work had largely rendered the superiority of the teacher/student relationship null and void at this point. It was Harry that the Ministry and especially the vampires were interested in hearing from and outside of Hogwarts Snape was not officially a professor which meant that the bullying tactics that Snape had used since Harry's first class were no longer effective. Which in turn meant that Harry had learned how Snape communicated with a greater variety of people and had thus developed a sort of immunity to his insulting words as long as the message still held importance- which, he had discovered, it usually did. He still didn't like Snape, and had little respect for the condescension had for just about everyone around him, but it no longer infuriated him the way that it usually did.

That didn't mean that Harry was prepared to sign off on following Snape's orders blindly, "when it comes to our safety I'll follow anything that you say... but if comes to an agreement between the vampires and Ministry that I don't agree with I can't promise to back you. I will respect you opinion but I won't bow to it."

Snape gave him a long considering look before nodding stiffly.

Harry turned back to Dumbledore before leaving, "Sir, what about the muggles in the town?"

Dumbledore nodded, "this is not the first time that the Ministry has had to hide evidence of warfare either with other wizards or with magical creatures from muggles, there are protections in place. The muggles have been struck with an inexplicable but quite debilitating flu that has struck just about every household, forcing them to remain in their houses. They will also forget to raise their blinds or open their curtains, afterwards any other evidence will modified from their memories- specifically the noise. The Ministry will use the barriers that you have seen in class with Professor Tackley but as you know, large scale silencing charms are difficult and far from fool proof. It is perhaps not the nicest way to go about things since I'm sure the talk of the town tomorrow will be about how uncomfortable they all felt the day before, and how strange it was that everyone got sick at once, but at least they will be safe."

Harry frowned slightly at the methods but had to concede that he couldn't offer a better solution. Short of relocating everyone in the town, there was no other way to make sure that everyone would be safe from the spellfire.

"Sir... don't take this wrong way, I'm not trying to get out of going but... would it not be more... _prudent_ to simply go to the Ministry and talk to the Minister directly? He's the one that will have to make the decision anyway."

It was Snape that spoke next, and Harry saw an expression that he had never seen on the man before. If Harry didn't know better... it might have been pride. "More prudent perhaps but not more effective. At the Ministry, the Minister will either dismiss you or simply refuse to even meet with you. By going directly to the battle site, you are forcing them to take notice. You are also the only person that the vampires will even consider working with. The Clan's loyalty may have shifted to a new Patriarch but they still hold you in high regard and your willingness to place yourself at risk to help them will only help your position. The group we have to worry about most are the werewolves. They owe you no loyalty and in fact might even view you as an enemy due to your alliance with the vampires and to a lesser extent the Ministry but... you have gained a reputation over the past few months. For maturity, for fairness and most of all for your ability to hold to your word. By releasing your own statements this year, the press has seen a different side to you than the sensationalist news that Skeeter has been showing them. You have carefully avoided making promises that you can't keep, and you place doing the right thing over how it plays out for you in the media. It's...been noted by some of the politicians that we have met with that you make for a refreshing change, we can only hope that that reputation can help us today."

Harry blinked at the rare words of praise from the potions master, unsure if he was dreaming or possibly hallucinating. It all seemed surreal at the moment. "Er...right sir. Thank you, I'll do my best."

Snape gave another stiff nod, as though trying to put an abrupt end to any form of sentiment, and downed the Polyjuice Potion that they had prepared, instantly transforming into the vestige of Aurora Tackley, Ex- Training Auror and known Ministry loyalist who would never dream of proposing a deal that did not benefit the institution that she was known to venerate. It had been Harry's idea, and surprisingly he had received little resistance from Snape about it. The only person that would have conceivably accompanied him other than Snape was McGonagall, but after last year her reputation with the Minister was on thin ice and both Harry and Snape knew Fudge and his assembled lackeys well enough to know that their own petty feelings might well destroy their deal, which meant using the one person they could think of that would go almost unquestioned by the Aurors present.

If Harry felt any guilt over using Tackley's image to get what he wanted without her permission, he didn't let it bother him for long. He was still uncertain about her loyalties and as the saying went 'desperate times' called for 'desperate measures'. Harry also noted with a bit of bemusement that the 'Ministry Protocols' that Tackley loved so much had no requirements for screening for disguises of any kind and there as a rather vindictive part of him that felt that Tackley deserved to be caught out for own reliance on outdated practices. If Harry ever lived long enough to become the Auror he aspired to be, he had quite a few changes that he wanted to make.

"We are flooing directly into the Manor but do not move without my consent, clear? We will need to present the terms to the Auror in command but it will be difficult to get there."

"Yes sir," and with a shouted word and a swirl of green flames, Harry was gone.

Immediately Harry could hear the sounds of battle. Spells crashed as people shouted curses and screamed bloody murder in a dissonant clash of fear and rage.

Things had obviously deteriorated quickly.

Despite still being indoors, Harry ducked down out of sight of the windows as he waited for Snape to arrive. The potions master had come through alert and ready, a shield raised before the flames had even settled. Harry waited until 'Tackley' was in the proper position, which only took moments and followed her lead out of the door- with textbook Auror precision that Harry did not think that Death Eater Severus Snape would have used if given the choice. Harry shot an _Incendio_ at the werewolf that was currently welding a set of large knifes at her vampire victim.

Despite all of the times that Harry had been in danger for his life, he had never experienced a full scale battle before. The attack that summer had been too much a surprise to be a proper battle, it was a massacre. Terrifying but in a strange way straight forward since Harry knew who the enemy was and all he had to do was escape. Even the attack on the Ministry, there had only been a handful of Death Eaters and it had mostly consisted of his friends trying to escape rather than fight back. The Order had fought- bravely and effectively- but it had lacked the sheer scope of the chaos that Harry walked into now.

 _Boom!_ A jet of pure black hurled towards the werewolves and the very forest shook with the explosion caused by the vampires that were using curses that Harry had never seen before. Harry threw himself to the side before the Aurors retaliated with a volley of spellfire ranging from fairly simple stunners up to the sickly green of the Killing Curse and Harry swallowed harshly as he took in exactly what the Aurors were willing to do during a raid on a village that had not even attacked the Ministry.

A loud, booming voice filled the area, coming from the far end of the village by the woods. " **This is a Ministry Raid! Pursuant to Clause 17 of the Dark Creatures Resolutions, you are now officially in breach of acceptable terms of behaviors. Surrender now and avoid further escalation of violence!** " The sonorous charm ended, replaced by the bangs and blasts of the battle.

Harry could not imagine that things could escalate much further than the Aurors willingness to use lethal curses against them but regardless there was a response from Dimitri Anghelescu's voice echoed back. " **The Kováč Clan came to the Ministry with their complaints and the Wizards have done nothing to put down the rabid dogs of the Heilesen** **Pack! Our people have now reformed under the Anghelescu name and change is upon us all! We have not attacked wizards and had no intention to do so but we will protect our village with lethal force if necessary. Leave now or be considered an invading force!** "

 _If nothing else_ , Harry though as he threw him to the side again while using a blasting curse to clear his path towards the hub of wizards on the far side of the village, _Dimitri certainly has a flare for the dramatic_.

Harry ducked as a couple of stunners headed towards him, followed by something more sinister. Not focusing on anything except blocking as many attacks as possible, Harry followed 'Tackley' straight towards the woods where a group of Aurors were fortifying a position and using it a base to launch their attack. Sirius had once told Harry that Snape had come into First Year knowing more dark curses than some of the Seventh Years but he had never before seen the man in a real duel- and it was terrifying. He had often criticized the Headmaster for his seemingly unflappable belief in Snape, but there was no denying that when Dumbledore had said that he didn't think that there was anyone better equipped to protect him than Snape, he was right. Snape's skill was cutting through his opponents in ways that Harry knew was better than almost any of the Aurors.

Because he realized quickly that the Aurors were all employing the tactics that Tackley had been training them with all year, and were losing ground quickly. The vampires and werewolves both seemed to anticipate their moves just as Harry had done during the training exercises and they could only hope that the fact that they were obviously Tackley protégés would only help their ploy to work. On the one hand, using Tackley as their 'face' of the negotiation would help in that all of the Aurors present had likely been trained by her at one point or another. Tackley wasn't the sole trainer for the Ministry after all, but she had held a Senior position and was well known. The wizards present today had likely had it drilled into them at some point to not only respect Tackley but to follow her every order. On the other, they would also know her best so if there was any flaw in Snape's performance they would caught immediately. The plan largely hinged on the fact that it was Harry that was leading the talks and would therefore be more heavily scrutinized, but there was no guarantee that they would not be caught out by some sort of Mad-Eye Moody type paranoia.

Harry twisted to the left as he used the Impediment Jinx to cause one of the vampires to stumble back enough to not only get hit by an incoming spell, but block it from hitting Harry himself. He had been practicing with Tonks for over two months but Harry had been forced to cancel the session this week in favor of working out his plans for the vampires and hadn't had a session with her since before Christmas Break. He used a piercing whistle charm to disorient the werewolves, who had sensitive hearing and then ducked back behind a tree to avoid another jet of black magic from the vampires. Unfortunately his timing was off, when he stuck his head out to resume his march forward, he was struck by a bluish- purple curse, right to the shoulder.

Harry bit back a scream as pain raced up and down his arm. He glanced at it and was quite relieved to discover that it was still intact... though bleeding heavily. Snape was still holding off defenders, his wand moving at unnatural speed and his curses connecting with practiced precision.

"Potter! How bad is it?" Tackley's voice called back

"It'll be alright but I need to stop the bleeding and fast!"

"Get to cover and stay there, hold up the strongest shield that you can, don't drop it."

Harry didn't bother responding but followed orders, he was still behind the tree and seemed safe for the moment though he raised his shield as he had been told. Snape appeared a few minutes later, a light sheen of sweat the only indication that he had been exerting himself. "Remind me to recommend an exercise regime to Aurora when we get back, shall you?" he said drily and a startled Harry laughed before grimacing in pain. Snape waved his wand in a complicated pattern, the incantation he used sounded more like a hum than traditional words but it was instantly effective. The bleeding stopped though the pain did not diminish. "That's the best I can do for the moment, can you move?"

"Yes sir, I've had worse than this."

It was quite strangely seeing the patented Severus Snape stare on Aurora Tackley's face but there it was and once again Harry couldn't read the expression that the man gave him but had the feeling that he was somewhat amused. "I imagine you have, now c'mon."

It was several more minutes of curses, shields and running for his life before they were outside the protective charms that surrounded the Aurors in charge of the mission.

"I would advise letting us through!" Tackley's voice called out with supreme calm even as she fought off two vampires that had assumed that the new witch was part of the wizarding contingent of fighters.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here!" A tall burly Auror who seemed to be in charge called out.

"Calling a bloody cease fire if you dolts would listen to anyone besides your own raging egos for a minute!"

"Oh erm... yes ma'am Madame Tackley," the officer stuttered, clearly unprepared to be met by his old instructor.

Snape made it through the special spells but Harry was still too far away at the moment and unable to pass through before he was further attacked. He panted as he deflected a curse that he had never seen from Dimitri's horde. He knew that vampires specialized in offensive magic but he had never seen them at play before. Even the night of the attack over the summer he had not gotten close enough, or ever had a clear enough view of any of the vampires to see how they fought in detail. "In the interest of honoring former debts Potter, I'm going to give you one chance to leave now. Our clan has no quarrel with you and in fact we hold you in high regard as compared to your lamentable fellow wizards!" Dimitri called out, speaking with such casualness that Harry would have thought that they were sitting down for tea rather than engaged in battle, if not for Dimitri pausing to bat away curses. "Our alliance is hereby dissolved, leave now or consider yourself trespassing."

"Listen to what we have to offer you or risk getting your people killed before you've been Patriarch for week Dimitri! Do the right thing and this can end in your favor."

"I don't need the help of meddling teenage wizards to get me what I want Potter! I thought you were actually different but you have the same arrogance that all wizards have- utterly convinced that you know best for all creatures!"

Harry grunted as he dodged another curse, raising a shield just in time, there were more vampires now, but also more Aurors and it was quickly becoming more difficult to dodge and avoid random spellfire than block the spells aimed at him directly. "I'm not the one arrogant enough to start a war with werewolves and wizards and think that I can win just because I want revenge Dimitri! Do the smart thing!"

Harry glanced up and saw his chance, there was a small hole in the fighting, he could get there if he moved fast enough and the others were distracted. Harry summoned up as much power and will that he could manage before he called forth his most powerful blasting curse, aiming at the ground to avoid as much injury to both sides as possible.

 _ **Boom!**_

Trees, bushes, vampires and a few Aurors went flying through the air as Harry dashed forward amidst the screams of pain. There was a moment of panic that he wouldn't be allowed through the enchantments and suddenly he was safe. He fell, panting on the ground, his chest heaving as the sounds of his own destruction echoed through his mind. He could see a gigantic crater in the ground as though a meteor had hit and reflected tiredly that he had perhaps overdone it. He didn't think that he had killed anyone- vampire, werewolf or wizard- but he couldn't be sure and the fact that he didn't think it mattered at the moment was scarier than the fact that he had used such a powerful curse in the first place.

"This is why we follow Auror Protocols, Potter," 'Tackley' reprimanded him. "You would have not arrived in the manner that you did if you had not decided to disregard everything I have been attempting to teach you."

Harry gritted his teeth against a flare of agony in his shoulder, biting extra hard as annoyance stabbed him harder than any curse, in spite of everything old habits died hard. "Yes ma'am," he answered.

Their acceptance into the fold of the protective barrier had not triggered a delay in the battle and both sides were still fighting furiously to end the other.

"Harry Potter? What the bloody hell are you doing here?"

Harry coughed roughly before pulling himself to his feet. His robes were torn and filthy, his face sweaty and covered in small cuts, his hair was no doubt in even greater disarray than usual, not really the impression he had been hoping to convey for this moment. "I have important news that needs to be discussed immediately," Harry answered, holding out his letters.

"Why are they sending _you_ here to deliver news? We have special Owls for that!"

"My news isn't from the Ministry sir, it's from ICW." 'Tackley' raised a subtle eyebrow at this but Harry was the only one that saw and didn't let it bother him. Instead he gave a stern glare at the man speaking, "I assume that you're the man in charge at the moment. Have you been given the right to negotiate terms, or are you only in charge of ordering battle movements?"

The tall, solidly built Auror blinked and Harry knew his words had had the desired effect, "The ICW?" he gulped, "how are they involved in this?"

Harry raised his eyebrow slightly as though to point out that he had still not received a proper introduction but answered the man quickly. "Since the British Ministry is currently launching all-out war on Magical Creatures with no direct provocation, it places us in an... uncomfortable position, especially when other governments have existing protections and policies for both werewolves and vampires. You need to call back the Aurors and your Regulators from the Department of Control of Magical Creatures before we ruin our position in the war against Voldemort. Unless that was the goal here?" He suggested archly, glancing around as though suspicious of their reasoning for such a blatantly stupid decision.

"Potter, that is enough! The Ministry is completely above board and for you to suggest otherwise is nothing more than inflammatory rhetoric. You are here as nothing more than a glorified messenger and I suggest you start showing proper Aurors, proper respect."

"Sorry Professor," Harry said, doing his best to look appropriately contrite. It was part of the plan- a good cop, bad cop approach that would have the Aurors more likely to want to follow what Tackley said even if they were against following the advice of a 16 year old.

"Thank you Madame Tackley," the tall man said gratefully, "we appreciate your support. Flynn! Pull back the forces, put up the white sparks, let them know that we need to deal." He paused, thinking things over quickly before saying, "30 minutes, we need to know our position before we start negotiations." The man eyed Harry for a long moment as though in consideration, before sticking out his hand for Harry to shake. "Eric Johnson, Mr. Potter, Senior Auror and given provisional power to negotiate in the interests most fitting with the British Ministry War Agenda."

Harry took the hand in a deliberately firm but still friendly grip, allowing his arrogant facade to fall a bit to get the man more on his side, "Nice to meet you sir, please call me Harry."

Moments later Harry and 'Tackley' found themselves sitting around a table with the five Senior Officers and a Portrait of an old Auror, Balford Smith, that was linked to another portrait in the Minister's office, by using the connection of the portrait the Minister could hear everything that was said in the room and use the image of Smith to send his remarks forward to Johnson. This was evidently standard procedure for communication.

"The Minister says that he has received no correspondence from the ICW," Portrait-Smith informed Harry curtly. "Are you aware young man that stopping a victorious battle prematurely to further your own agenda could be considered... treasonous?"

Calling what Harry had walked into a 'victorious battle' was premature at best and fantasy at worst but he decided it was probably best to blow past that remark. "I would think that we all have the same agenda, worrying more about the war with Voldemort than getting side tracked on efforts that are going to cost us allies- both with powerful magical creatures and with foreign nations."

"Mr. Potter makes a solid point Johnson," 'Tackley' said, "winning a battle is one thing but it's always preferable to win a war."

"If the ICW hasn't contacted you..."

"I perhaps misspoke," Harry admitted with no attempt at showing real remorse for his deliberate misrepresentation of who had sent him. "I meant to say that I received word from several members of the ICW, members that are incredibly concerned with how we're responding to creatures that have shown their loyalty to us."

"Both the vampires and the werewolves have a long history of siding with Dark Lords!" Johnson argued as several of men agreed.

"They have a history of reacting against persecution!" Harry shouted back.

"Potter," Snape said quietly, warning written clearly on Tackley's face. Harry took a breath and heeded the man's advice. He needed to tread carefully, he knew that, and there was no room for his own emotions.

"Johnson," 'Tackley' spoke, giving Harry a moment to collect himself by the shifting the focus to herself for the moment. "You know that strategies need to be adopted for the current situation. The Ministry will always to protect the interests of wizards first and foremost but the first rule in any war is that the enemy of your enemy is your friend. Do not lose sight of the forest for the trees." Snape glanced at Harry for a moment before adding. "Mr. Potter and I have not always seen eye to eye but I never met a man with more pure intentions when it comes to helping our world. I've built a successful career on distrusting the motives of others but... I have learned much from Harry Potter this year, perhaps chief among these to trust and respect him. I would not be standing here in front of you if I could not say that with utmost of sincerity."

There was a beat of silence as the power of those words seem to come through to everyone present- none more so than Harry himself who could see that though they were spoken for the benefit of their plan... Snape had meant every word of them.

"What is your proposal?" Johnson asked.

It was simply laid out. The French, Danish, Spanish and Germany governments would agree to sign provisional treaties for an alliance in the war against Voldemort in exchange for Britain's agreement to roll back many of their more discriminatory practices regarding werewolves and vampires as long as they in turn promised to swear loyalty to the Ministry and follow its laws. This included all packs and clans that were willing to accept the deal. The largest debate came with what to do about the werewolves that were involved in the attack over the summer. The Avada Kedavra was only considered an Unforgivable when used against a wizard or a muggle, technically it was not illegal to kill a magical creature unless they were considered a 'protected' species, such as a unicorn or a phoenix. Meanwhile, far from ensuring punishment, anything classified as a Dark Creature could be killed without even the need to prove that the creature was being aggressive, merely that the wizard felt threatened. A few of the wizards present were in favor of executing the entire pack and using it as a means of getting the vampires on their side and eliminating any potential threat in one fell swoop but Harry could not agree to sign up for a mass execution. Instead it was agreed that any werewolf that was discovered to be guilty of causing a death in the attack over the summer- or at any time before or after- would be subject to immediate execution, and the rest would receive a one-time immunity.

It would a tough sell to Dimitri and his clan but Harry hoped they could see the sense in seeing the bigger picture. If the British agreed to treat their magical creatures better the other countries would agree to relax some of their trade restrictions on potions ingredients that they had placed an embargo on due to Britain's discriminatory policies and they would allow for more open immigration if certain packs or clans chose to immigrate- something they had not allowed in the past. But most importantly they would be providing military support for the war as long as help the provided from the aiding countries would be fully compensated through the British government, who would have to assume financial responsibility for the war.

"We're talking about assuming millions of galleons of debt!" Smith's portrait had balked in surprise.

"It's still in our best interest to assume the cost," Harry argued. "First of all, if we have to fight alone the war could drag on so long that it might wind up costing us more in the long run anyway. The last war was 11 years, and now we've missed a year by refusing to act as quickly as possible. Voldemort is in the perfect position but he is still working on setting his contingency plans-"

"How do you know that?" Johnson asked.

Harry leveled him with a steady look, and said quietly, "I make it my business to know, sir. This," Harry pointed outside, "is a distraction and one I'm not willing to allow me from getting away from what matters. My point is, time matters, the sooner we stop Voldemort the better because if gets what he wants not only will be that much stronger but his attention won't be split. But aside from the financial cost, this is _better deal_ for Britain. If we take financial responsibility for the war it will also grant us more voting power and keep the direction of the war in our control. Since the majority of the fighting will be happening here, we need to make sure that our people and our government is protected. The last thing we need is the ICW to come in and take that away from us."

"Mr. Potter brings up excellent points," Dorcus Barkley, an elderly wizard that had served as an Auror for years before retiring and becoming an advisor to the Minister. "Britain has suffered the humiliation of being considered a second class country in the ICW for decades, if it weren't for Albus Dumbledore our position would be even worse. This places us in a solid leadership position. However, I'm more concerned with the provisions about protections for Dark Creatures. We are not the French or, Merlin forbid, one of the Scandinavian countries- our people will likely revolt when they hear about the repeal of those laws."

"Not if they hear that they're fighting against Voldemort," Harry argued.

"They'll only believe that they are planning to double-cross us," Tackley argued back. "Dorcus is right, the British Purebloods will be livid. However, let us remind ourselves how few and far between old Pureblood families have become. Potter, you said that you are willing to use a portion of the Black family money to help with the war fund?"

Harry nodded, knowing where this little speech was headed. "Then announce it the newspapers and make it clear where you stand on all of this and make it abundantly clear that if the deal goes through the vampires and werewolves will be signing an alliance with you, not the Ministry and that the policies are temporary during the war and will be re-negotiated after the fact. The Muggleborns will be accepting if it means they are given a better chance of escaping Death Eaters, and the old Pureblood families will have a hard time speaking out without making it sound as though they aren't trying to support He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named."

"Brilliant ma'am," Johnson agreed, making Harry very glad that he had suggested the idea of using Tackley as their unwitting ally. They argued about the finer details for another few minutes before they were ready to present the terms to the werewolves and the vampires.

They shot up more white sparks, showing their willingness to negotiate before heading out, which was apparently standard procedure. Harry had half expected the werewolves and vampires to continue fighting one another in their absence but it seemed that they had been waiting to hear what the wizards were going to offer first.

It happened so fast that Harry wasn't sure until after the fact how he had known to move as he did but through the crowd, a dirty, ill-looking man charged forward, welding his knives and launching himself at Aurora Tackley. Harry shoved her out of the way, taking the dagger to his left side and falling just as half a dozen shots of green light shot over him, from her position on the ground 'Tackley's' own spell went wide... hitting directly into Emil Heilesen as though by the sheerest of coincidences. The pack roared with rage as did the vampires who readied themselves for another attack.

"Stop!" Harry gasped, pain lancing through him. "Stop... it..." the cut wasn't deep but there was a strange feeling in his chest and his head spun. "Dimitri...please you need to listen!" His vision was starting to tunnel.

But he wasn't sure what he was going to say. He was hearing voices, shouting, and there was pain as someone seemed to pry his mouth open and suddenly there was darkness.

HPHPHP

Harry woke up in a strange bed and it took him a moment to realize that he was in an unfamiliar place. He went to sit up but could only groan. "Drink this," a low voice told him and Harry obeyed without thought. He coughed as the fiery liquid went down his throat.

"What's the last thing you remember?"

Harry blinked as the face of Aurora Tackley came into view, Harry glanced at the door and saw that they were alone. "You taking out our biggest threat in the clumsiest excuse for an accident possible. Is the deal ruined already?"

Snape raised an eyebrow, the effect was not the same without his dark eyes and glowering expression. "Not yet," he answered, humoring Harry with getting straight back to business as well. "The pack is currently at a loss without their leader. It seems as though Heilesen did not have a clear successor in mind but it's becoming clear that without him they are not prepared to hold out very long against the Ministry. The attack on us wasn't planned, the werewolf that did it was apparently quite mad- not unusual among werewolves. While there are some that are able to curb their appetites and urges to the full moon alone, the fact remains the beast is always there under the surface and has been known to take control of the conscious mind, or at least heavily influence it. However, it might well have been the best. It offered the opportunity to eliminate our greatest obstacle to the deal, satisfy the vampires' and knock out their leadership. I think they will agree to terms if no other reason than to save themselves."

Harry nodded, trying not to focus on how casually Snape had describe the murder of a werewolf as 'eliminating our greatest obstacle'. Emil was a murderer himself and death was a part of war. He shouldn't feel guilt over it... and yet he promised himself that he would be better than Voldemort and the Death Eaters. If that were true, shouldn't he feel bad that his primary feeling at the moment was relief that he was gone? Instead of worrying about this at the moment Harry focused on practical matters. "What was that on the knife?"

"Kohlrabi and wolfsbane, a deadly combination for anyone not a werewolf. You are quite lucky that I had bezoar on my person for emergencies."

Harry nodded tiredly, "thank you."

Snape hesitated, "all things considered Potter, I believe that I should be thanking you. Not the least because you have proven in the past that you have no idea what a bezoar is so if the situation had been reversed we would have been in a lot of trouble."

Harry actually laughed, "it was the first day of class and believe it or not I had spent that whole month before class reading every book that I could on the list, but I only had a month to learn that magic wasn't just an 'invention of lazy con-men designed to steal hard working men's money' as my uncle had been telling me for years."

Snape said nothing but scoffed slightly, as though saying if he had been in such a situation a month would have been plenty of time to get all of the information that he needed. "Dimitri Anghelescu wants to talk with you personally before he agrees to anything, are you feeling up to it?"

Harry nodded, preferring to get it over with quickly.

Dimitri Anghelescu was a handsome man. Tall, dark coloring and a confidence about him that Harry admired. He entered the room with grace and took a seat next to Harry's bedside.

"I would have thought that you would have been trying to get Raymond his position back," he started without preamble.

"Raymond agreed to all of this. He thinks that it's more important for the Clan to make the right decision than for them to worry about who's making it," Harry told him evenly.

Dimitri said nothing for a moment but there was careful consideration in his eyes. "When you got stabbed, you told us to stop... what were you worried about?"

Harry frowned, recognizing that this was a test and one he was not sure he knew the right answer for. The only thing he could offer was the truth. "I knew you would want revenge, that you would use their attack as an excuse to attack them back and if you did that the Ministry would pull the deal they're going to offer you. They told you what they're offering?"

Dimitri nodded slowly.

"It's a good deal... well, the best one I could manage," Harry admitted. "I know I can't promise it's going to be permanent but if I make it through this war I promise that I will try to make the new policies last after the war."

"I promised my people revenge."

"Dimitri, people didn't follow Raymond for over two hundred years because he won every fight- they followed him because he ran things so that they didn't have to fight at all. Do the right thing and you can be a patriarch for centuries, I was told vampires have short memories when it comes to short events. Emil Heilesen is dead, he was the one you had the biggest cause to go after. Did they tell you the other part of the deal? Any werewolf responsible for killing someone- anyone- is going to be held responsible. You don't have to fight us."

"You were the one that went to the foreign nations with the deal, weren't you?"

Harry nodded. "It wasn't just for you, my stupid Ministry is more worried about running after vampires and rogue werewolves than fighting an actual war. I needed real allies... and the deal was the right thing to do."

And it was, in more ways than one. Harry truly believed in giving rights to 'dark creatures' but he had also learned over the past few months that as much as Britain complained about their lack of world influence many of their policies were looked down upon as not only outdated but sneered at for its discrimination. Harry had read that only a year earlier the muggle United Nations had gotten together and used a collective sanction effort to end apartheid in South Africa and been shocked to learn that nearly similar practices were being employed by several ICW members against Wizarding Britain for the same reasons.

Dimitri nodded before saying solemnly, "Mr. Potter... it is with great honor and privilege that the Anghelescu Clan pledges its loyalty and fealty to the Potter name and will work alongside you in all of your endeavors." Harry grasped his hand and smiled.

HPHPHP

Harry climbed the steps towards his dormitory wearily. His ribs burned and he had developed a headache that was now pulsing in time with the wound on his shoulder. It was late. Past curfew, not that it mattered as he had arrived back at Dumbledore's office and had his permission. Harry was having longing fantasies about his bed. It was strange to think that at the start of his day he had been so worried about Ginny, now that problem seemed easy in comparison to worry about the situation that he had just irrevocably taken control over. He had been so sure of everything but now that it was done, the deals made and everyone knew that he was the center of a major International Cooperation War Effort... doubts had taken firm hold over him.

For the first time he was looking forward to telling the truth to Ginny not just because it would mean being fully honest with her but because he could finally ask her advice. Ginny had a different take on things than either Ron or Hermione. What was even better was that after so many years Harry usually felt certain that he already knew what his friends would say in a given situation, but when it came to Ginny, she was fully of surprises. Hopefully she was still up…but perhaps tonight was not the best night for a full confession of everything. He was so tired and she would have a lot of questions. Perhaps just an apology and a promise that he would tell her everything in the morning. Surely that would suffice, wouldn't it? He didn't even know where to begin: with the events of the day, the prophesy, the Horcruxes... his thoughts swirled in his mind.

He entered the Common Room to a wave of noise. He glanced around in confusion, usually the only time there were parties this loud was after a Quidditch win but there had been no game (with Gryffindor or otherwise) scheduled for today.

He spotted Ron laughing with Seamus, his arm a bit tighter around Lavender's waist than was probably strictly warranted no matter what their relationship status. "Hey," Harry greeted them. "What's been going on here?"

"Celebrating," Ron told him proudly. "Our victory."

"What victory? There was no match today," Harry asked in confusion.

"Never said it was a Quidditch match mate," Seamus said with a smile, "though your team did put up a hell of a fight."

Harry paused, "fight? What happened? Was anyone hurt?"

"Draco and his loyal little henchmen came round. The usual happened, except this time we didn't take any of their shit and for once we didn't wait for them to get us before _we got them_. Ginny hexes them with this amazing Bat-Bogey and from there... well you really should have seen how it went down it was amazing," Ron laughed.

"Oh but the best was Neville, I mean I knew that he was really killing it this year in Defense and he's been taking these extra lessons from Tackley and everything but...wow, the Slytherins didn't even know what hit them."

"Crabbe and Goyle couldn't even get off the ground and some of those younger years are going to think twice before they start pulling the same old crap on us."

"That's right!" A Third Year chimed in from behind them. "We're tired of being the good guys, let them know how it feels to get hit first!"

Harry frowned, "you make it sound like Ginny and Neville just...attacked them."

Seamus rolled his eyes, "oh come on mate, it wasn't like that."

"Then what was it like?"

"Actually I think Harry's pretty much summed it up," Lavender said, her voice tinged with disapproval, causing both Ron and Seamus to look at her with surprise. She raised her eyebrows defensively, "Parvati and I were there and Merlin knows the Slytherins were being a bit annoying, what else is new anyway? Still doesn't mean that Ginny had to unleash hell- no offense or anything Harry," she added.

"Oh please, the Slytherins have been dragging on us for years, and they are always the ones to start with us. I say good for Ginny and Neville for finally having the guts to make the first move," Seamus said.

"Yeah I don't know what's gotten into Neville but he's been wicked this year," Dean said coming over with Parvati and a couple of Fifth Years, Anthony Draystone and Blake Shelly.

"Neville wicked for being a prat?" Parvati asked dubiously. "Are you being serious? Neville was just about the nicest bloke in the entire world. Never hurt a fly, but this year? I don't know what the hell went on when you all went to the Ministry last year Harry but I'm telling you... it messed with Neville's mind or something."

Harry blinked, surprised by the correlation. He had noticed a distinct rise in Neville's confidence that year but he had never thought of it as a problem. Pavarti made it sound almost sinister.

The group continued to debate the merits of the fight, Parvati and Lavender- not usually known for their voices of reasons- seemed to be the only ones that had a problem with the fight or more specifically the fact that it had been the Gryffindors to start it, everyone else was of the opinion that Gryffindor had allowed the Slytherins to dictate the terms of the rivalry for too long. Playing nice until they were attacked and then coming out on the defensive.

After a long day of fighting in a real battle, of seeing blood and bodies and hearing screams and cries, Harry felt disgusted by the whole thing. The last thing they needed was more fighting, and in that moment his temper flared, "it shouldn't matter that they usually start it, we started it this time and it sounds like it turned into a nasty fight. We're supposed to be better than that! Especially Neville and Ginny. I don't know what they hell they were thinking but I don't think that we should be celebrating the fact that two people who usually do the right thing decided to throw it all away over a stupid House rivalry, we all have bigger problems than that." He turned and stomped away,

Harry finally climbed the steps to his dorm, grateful to escape the crowd. He could still hear the noise of the party but his head was pounding and the dorm usually blocked out any noise. His first clue that anything was wrong was the tangled mess of clothes on the bedroom floor... but sharing a room with four other boys had made Harry immune to such messes so it wasn't surprising that he had missed the first sign. The second was the startled yelp of surprise that suddenly seemed to signal a cut off for all other noise. Instead there was only a vague buzzing in his head as his other senses seemed to fade. He only needed the one- but Merlin how he wished in that moment he had been struck blind.

Everything else had shifted to the background. He couldn't focus on anything but the horrific sight in front of him.

Neville was in bed. With Ginny.

 **A/N... and cliffhanger! Most of the reviews I got have indicated that people aren't a fan of the Harry/Ginny pairing. I actually haven't heard a single person that was in favor of the two of them together so I guess no one is heartbroken. I have mixed feelings in general. I don't hate them together but I felt it was one of the laziest plots in the series, especially for a series that focuses on the importance of love. It seemed as though Harry had just tripped and stumbled upon the love of his life because she was sleeping a floor below him at the Burrow. That said, if done well, I can enjoy the two of them together but most often I feel that Ginny doesn't have the maturity to be with Harry in the long term, at least at this point in their lives. Also for those angry about Harry wanting to confide in Ginny after she conducted herself in the worst way possible- its his first girlfriend and despite Harry's maturity in this story he is still a teenager from a dysfunctional family situation that is trying to figure out the balance between a complicated life in the war effort and being a normal kid. The fact is, simply being in a relationship with someone doesn't entitle you to know everything- that is where trust comes in. People who work in the FBI, or in the military have plenty of classified secrets and their significant others have to understand that there are aspects of their life that cannot be discussed. Ginny is unable to see that and instead feels that Harry is simply being hypocritical for wanting to know information last year and not telling her things this year- failing to see that it's not really a question of age this time, it a question of what she actually needs to know.**

 **Also- as far as Hermione and McLaggen- I agree that he deserves to be reported. If for no other reason than to prevent another attack on a different girl. However, this is a traumatic experience and Hermione is unable to think rationally at the moment. And I didn't want to have Harry ride in and solve all of her problems. Harry is there to support her, not 'rescue' her in this situation.**

 **My poor Neville has really taken a character beating and for that I'm sorry but chapter 32 will fully explain where Neville's heads at and while the reasoning doesn't totally excuse all of his behavior I feel it explains it. Please tell me what you think :)**


	31. The First Cut is the Deepest

**Chapter 31: The First Cut is the Deepest**

Harry froze in the doorway, so surprised by what he what he was seeing that his first reaction was to tell himself that he was being ridiculous. Ginny wouldn't sleep with Neville. Neville would never go after his girlfriend.

But his eyes told a different story. They were laying in front of him, Ginny on top of Neville. Her robes still hanging precariously off the end of the bed post as though carelessly flung aside. His robes crumbled on the ground in a messy pile. Their naked flesh still entwined with one another. Oddly, the first fully coherent thought that Harry had was that they should have at least closed the curtains around the bed.

The three of them stared at each other. Harry too shocked to do anything other than gape, open mouthed, at his girlfriend and one of the closest friends that he had outside of Ron and Hermione. Together. And it was their expressions that were the worst part of it all. Ginny was looking up at him with a defiant, bold glare. It was the same look that she would give her older brothers when they had told her that she couldn't do something because she was too young, or because she was a girl. It was a glint of determination mixed in with a stubborn vindictiveness that threatened to not only prove that she was capable but would make the other person pay for their mistake in underestimating her. He recognized the glint in her eyes immediately because he had grown to admire the determination behind it. Now it made him sick to his stomach.

Neville was flushed and his jaw was working back and forth- unable to settle precisely on an expression. One moment he seemed as though he would burst out with an apology, the next… there was a strange sheen of triumph in Neville's eyes that Harry had never seen before. It was a look that Harry would never have expected to see from the usually kind-hearted Gryffindor. It was a look that said to Harry that Neville had won. And that he was glad that he had proven to Harry that he could beat him.

Parvati's words about how Neville had changed this year echoed back to him.

"Oy Harry! C'mon mate don't be upset! You weren't there, they deserved it. Slytherins have been having a go at us for ages. It was about time that someone put the nasty buggers in their place and I say good on Neville for finally standing up and doing it!" Ron called, and Harry could hear someone (Seamus he believed) laughing beside him as two sets of footsteps stomped up the steps.

"Hey what's the holdup…sweet bloody Merlin!" Seamus exclaimed catching sight of the teens in bed from behind Harry's frozen form.

"What the FUCK Neville!" Ron cried out. "Get the hell away from my sister!"

"This is actually my dorm too Ron. And this is _my_ bed." Neville replied, his tone wavering more than the words implied. In a weird sense of déjà vu, Harry remembered the same trembling, nervous quality in the other boy's voice when he had confronted the three of them at the end of First Year about sneaking out of the Common Room. Neville was trying to act as though he was unapologetic, but his face had colored guiltily and he was not meeting anyone's eyes dead on.

"Neville's right Ron," Ginny yelled out, pulling the tangled bedclothes up as high as possible to cover herself from Seamus' open-mouthed stare and Harry's narrowed eyes. Her movements were exaggerated. She wasn't covering up out of modesty alone, she was emphasizing the point that she _needed_ to cover up in the first place. " _I_ came up here. _I_ made the decision to be with Neville. I don't know how many times or how many ways I have to say it, but who I see or what I do with them is none of your damn business."

"And I guess it's not my business either," Harry said at last. His voice was quiet but it seemed to echo in his brain from miles off. The whole situation had taken on a twinge of unreality and part of him vaguely wondered if the attack that he had sustained during the Summit had affected him more than he had thought and he was now hallucinating all of this. Perhaps Dimitri had set out to trick him after all. Vampires could compel their victims to believe what they wanted, couldn't they? Perhaps this was all a plot to unbalance him. At the moment it was a comforting thought to believe that what he was seeing in front of him was the work of blood thirsty enemies and not the betrayal of a woman that he had truly believed that he loved.

Ginny's eyes turned to him and there was anger and hurt in her expression. "I'm tired of being the girl that you come back to after all the excitement is over Harry. I'm tired of being the daft idiot that's supposed to support you unconditionally when you refuse to give me the same respect in return. Neville doesn't hide things from me, _Neville_ respects what I can do in a fight!" There were tears in her eyes but anger was keeping them from turning into full sobs.

"Respect!" Ron yelled, his face a dark puce color. His balled fists were shaking with rage and Harry could see that the redhead was restraining himself from throwing a punch. In fact, he rather thought the only thing holding Ron back for the time being was that the redhead wasn't sure who he should be attacking. Harry was glad of the indecision because he didn't think that he had it in him to stop him at the moment. Seamus put a cautious hand on Ron's shoulders, eyes flicking between his dorm mates, one towering with rage, one frozen and stiff, the last still half-covered on the bed, seeming to stubbornly refuse to admit that he had done anything wrong.

"I was actually looking for you," Harry said quietly, his voice dull and flat to his own ears. He felt hollow. As though a Dementor had given him his final Kiss and all that was left behind was a husk of the person that he wanted to be. He could feel the heat of anger radiating from Ron beside him but all he felt was cold. Numbness spreading outwards. He wanted to be angry. He wanted to yell and scream at her and punch Neville in the face but in the moment no emotion came. There was nothing.

"I wanted to talk…but never mind," There was nothing else to say, was there? He had spent the whole day waiting to see her. He had convinced himself that he was the problem, that he was being selfish and stupid for refusing to trust her with the whole truth. He struggled against years of instinct in ground in him the Dursleys and had thought that he had been the one that was in wrong but he was not the one that had deliberately hurt her the way she had done him. He found the thought both comforting and mobilizing. _He_ had not done this.

He spun quickly and walked away. He heard Seamus call after him, telling him to come back but he paid him no attention. He couldn't stay there. The thought of sleeping in his bed, a meter away from Neville, made his skin crawl. He glanced once around the cheery partygoers and knew that he couldn't stay down there either. At the moment he was too stunned to feel anything, but anger was slowly inching forward, the last thing he needed was some poor unsuspecting Third Year to get in his way and find himself hexed by the 'Chosen One.'

He made his way out through the portrait hole, throwing on his invisibility cloak, which he had still had with him from the day's expedition, he always had it just in case, and took a minute to think about where he could go where no one would find him. It was too cold out to go to the Astronomy Tower. The castle doors were locked at this time of night so he couldn't seek refuge with Hagrid or hide in the greenhouses. And then his senses caught up him and Harry cursed his own stupidity. _No wonder I was daft enough to trust them both, I can't see obvious things right in front of me,_ Harry inwardly grumbled.

Harry found his way to the Room of Requirement. Asking for a place where no one would find him. A place where he could be utterly alone.

The room was small but there was a bed and a small fireplace beside an armchair and Harry found the tightness of the room comforting. The space wasn't large enough for more than one or two people, reminding him oddly of his room at Privet Drive. The small bedroom that had seemed immense to a boy that had survived in a cupboard for 10 years. The small space reminded Harry that he had always done well on his own. He had survived worse and he would survive this as well.

Once Harry made his way inside he asked the room for some night clothes and a cup of tea. The night clothes were there instantly but the room remained silent in regards to his request for tea. He was momentarily surprised before he thought of a few other items. Treacle tart, biscuits, and when those were not forthcoming he got creative and asked for Shepard's pie and a full English breakfast. Nothing. He turned back to more usual items. Blankets, pillows, a chess set. All of them appeared and Harry was forced to conclude that the room did not provide food and wondered why that would be. He would have to ask Hermione, she would know. He shook his head at the fact that now of all times he had turned academically curious.

Harry got into bed, convinced that he wouldn't be able to sleep but after a restless sleep the night before and the exhaustion of the day, even his own troubled thoughts could not keep him awake for a long. But as it turned out…they also couldn't keep him asleep for every long. Harry awoke after a series of strange and mixed up dreams. None of them made any sense but he was fairly certain that in one of them Ginny was helping a werewolf eat Neville while laughing and asking why Harry was so upset.

There were no windows in his little hideaway but the magic of the room had kept the fire burning all night. He groaned in tiredness and his heard his neck crack roughly as he tried to work out the remaining soreness from the day before. He used the room to conjure a clock and saw that it was just after dawn. Still very early for a Sunday, even breakfast wouldn't start for another hour. Once he had fully woken, he was surprised to find that he felt better. The potion that had been used on his shoulder seemed to have worked during the night and other than a slight throb and a slight headache he was as good as new. Physically at least. He laid in bed, the events of the previous evening playing out in front of his eyes over and over again. He couldn't stand the inaction. He hated the feeling that this was a problem with no good answer. He pushed himself out the bed, looking for a distraction.

He would still need to meet with Daphne for their latest project- this one was Charms, and he knew her well enough to know that she would get to the library early. This time the topic they had been assigned was advanced tracking spells. Combining the use of spells and potions to help find someone that was missing. It was a difficult topic, despite years of research even the Ministry found it hard to properly track someone that they did not have a decent lead on. It was one of the reasons Sirius had been able to remain at large for so long. His godfather had told him a few of the things he had done to ensure the Ministry would not find him and Harry had already started to use a few of those ideas to figure out how to counteract them from the other side of the law. He was making decent progress and even thought that given what he knew, Sirius would have had a harder time keeping hidden around Hogwarts with some of the spells he was thinking of, but Harry once again had that familiar feeling of not wanting to give too much away to a Ministry he distrusted and a partner of unsure loyalties, which meant that anything he felt was especially creative he kept to himself- just in case. In many ways he was very grateful that Hermione was not his assigned partner for these assignments, for he never had to feel guilty for not giving Daphne his best.

With a plan to distract himself and a desire to try and atone for his cancelled study session the day before, Harry used the room to get himself a series of books and make himself notes on some of the trickier spells. He worked solidly for well over an hour before he made the decision that he should go down to breakfast early so as to avoid as many people as possible.

His plan was almost successful, while fairly empty of students, the Great Hall was still occupied by its early riser professors, an angry McGonagall among them. "Potter, a word if you please," she demanded crisply as soon as he had entered.

For a moment, Harry was baffled, what could he have possibly done now. Had she realized that he had not spent the night in the Tower? Unlikely as she was not one for bed-checks and Harry was _certain_ that no one in their Year had dared tell their Head about the events of the previous night.

And then he remembered the conversation that he had had with Ron prior to the devastation of what had happened afterwards and knew what had placed her in such a furious state.

"Yes professor," Harry said following her into the small room off of the Hall so that McGonagall could reprimand him in private, the same room that Harry had once entered after hearing his name come out of the Goblet of Fire. Facing an angry McGonagall was only slightly less nerve wracking, Harry thought wryly.

"Mr. Potter, when I offered you the position as Gryffindor Quidditch Captain I did so with the assumption and expectation that you would handle the position with maturity and respect. I have never been so disappointed in my House than when I learned of the… _brawl_ ," the Scottish brogue drew out the word with distain, "that occurred yesterday. I demand an explanation, Potter."

"Professor…" Harry's first instinct was to protest that he had not been involved in what had happened the day before, but before he could say the words he realized that as Captain he was still responsible for the actions of his team. Dumbledore had told him once that the true burden of a leader was not what he could control but that what he could not.

"I'm sorry, professor," Harry began instead. "I wasn't at the practice yesterday, I was… with the Ministry," not wanting to reveal that Snape had been there as well. "I should have cancelled but I let the team practice without me. I told Ginny and Ron to run it. I never expected there to be a problem."

"Mr. and Miss Weasley will be held accountable for their despicable behavior but they are not the ones that were given the responsibility of the team Mr. Potter, that role is yours."

"You're right Professor and I take full responsibility for what my team has done. I hadn't meant to miss practice yesterday but something came up at the last minute and I...I thought that..." Harry struggled not to single out Ron but even though he had only joined the team a year prior he was officially one of the most senior members of the team behind Harry and a Sixth Year. "I thought that the team would be alright for one practice. I should have made sure that I was there. You're right, they're my responsibility."

"Where was Miss Bell during all this?" McGonagall asked, "why did you not place her in charge?"

Harry winced, "Katie's been ill this week and had wanted to skip practice anyway. I realize that with two members missing we should have cancelled but with her out we've been wanting to work with our alternate just in case. It was my decision to continue practice even without me and its most Senior member, I'm sorry Professor... I wrong to trust them." Harry added, meaning more than just for the practice. He had felt so sure that he had known Ginny. He had been sure that he loved her... and now he felt like a fool for not even knowing what kind of person she really was.

McGonagall's expression had shifted as Harry took the blame and he had the impression that she had been gearing up for a longer argument on his part. She sounded genuinely remorseful when she said, "Mr. Potter, there is a reason why the Captain is meant to be present for all team practices. I realize that you have more on your plate any other Captain, any other student, that I have known in my many years here has ever had to worry about but if things have become too difficult... we may have to re-evaluate your ability to manage the team."

Harry winced at once upset and angry for the position that his team had put him in. "Professor, I know that I have a lot going on but I've been handling it! The team has been really good this year, this was... it was a one-time thing. Besides, I told you I wasn't there but I _was_ told that they were only fighting back against the Slytherins who had come to taunt them first. You know what they can be like, Professor," Harry added tilting his head slightly and raising his eyebrows to show that it was no secret that Gryffindor had been on the receiving end of more than their fair share of bullying in the past.

McGonagall pursed her lips but was unmoved by this argument, "I am very much aware that Slytherin House has acted abysmally in the past Mr. Potter, but that does _not_ excuse what occurred yesterday. I happen to know for a fact that _Gryffindor_ s threw the first spell. And it was the Slytherin students- Second and Third Years I might add- that wound up in the hospital wing. That is disgusting!"

Harry's eyes widened, no one had said that they had been attacking younger students. "They…Ginny and Ron attacked little kids?" Harry asked aghast.

McGonagall raised her brow at his words, but her expression further softened at the sight of his shock. "I don't know if I would call any Hogwarts student a 'little kid' Mr. Potter but by your reaction I take it you are not informed on all of the details. To clarify, thankfully things were not that appalling. The students in question were caught in the…crosshairs as it were when things escalated. Nevertheless, as older, more experienced wizards, it is the responsibility of our NEWT level students to be responsible for the younger years."

Harry nodded, feeling relieved that although after last night he knew that he had misjudged Ginny, at least 6 years of friendship with Ron had not left him woefully ignorant of the other's boys character. Harry felt a flash of shame for believing his friend even capable of such a thing but after finding out about Neville and Ginny's betrayal, he found that he was second guessing his own judgement of people. Harry took a deep breath, preparing himself to swallow the stinksap, as it were. "Professor… I'm sorry. What can I do?"

McGonagall leveled him with a steady glare, a challenge in her tone as she said, "I agree that you have been doing an excellent job as Captain in spite of all of your outside duties. In fact I have wanted to take the time to commend you, Harry. You have conducted yourself with incredible maturity this year- both inside and outside of Hogwarts and I am very proud of the man that you've become." Harry blinked in surprise, his face reddening at the praise from his usually reserved Head of House. Of course her next words almost took the glow of praise away from him. "Which is why I feel confident that you will make this right. As Captain it is your responsibility to issue a formal apology from our House to theirs."

"A _formal_ apology? Professor… Gryffindor and Slytherin have been fighting for years, and I've never heard of anyone giving a 'formal apology' to the other House."

McGonagall's nostrils flared for a moment before her expression softened and her tone became more confidential. "Harry," the use of his first name for now the second time in this conversation startled him, McGonagall usually only used it when she felt that she needed to be sympathetic. "I appreciate your willingness to take responsibility, especially as you were not present at the time. That kind of maturity and leadership is precisely why I chose you for this position. Allow me a moment of candidness when I tell you that I have been quite impressed with the way you have handled the pressures that the Wizarding World has placed on you, this year in particular. But Harry... I think that the troubles in our world start brewing within these walls." She paused for a moment, giving him a long, considering look. "Ordinarily I refrain from discussing conversations among professors with students but I feel that the circumstances have shown that it in this case it is necessary. Professor Snape and I currently disagree with how best to mend fences between our Houses. It is no secret in our world that many of You-Know-Who's followers were once members of Slytherin House, but Harry… you and I are both aware that Death Eaters come in all shapes and sizes. I am not foolish enough to believe that a simple apology from our House to theirs will resolve decades and even centuries of ill feelings. Nor, quite frankly, am I as optimistic as Dumbledore that all people can be persuaded to make the right choices in the end. I have been a teacher for nearly forty years and I have learned in that time that students will make their own decisions.

"However, I have also learned that you will be very surprised how much impact a single action can have on a person. There are times that I think the reason some of the Slytherins are willing to follow…Voldemort is because it is already assumed that they will. I think that you more than most people can appreciate the injustice of unfair assumptions being made and how difficult it can be to break away from them.

"I also think that when your side is in the wrong, real honor means first admitting it and then correcting it. You are a man of honor Harry Potter and I am quite proud to have you in my House. I know that you will do the right thing. I also know that whether we like to admit it or not, people both recognize and respect when we see others, even enemies, do an honorable thing. Do you understand everything that I'm saying?"

Harry was stunned by her praise. McGonagall had always been a supportive Head, in her own way, he remembered her vehement assertion that she would make him an Auror if 'it was the last thing that she did' but she had always been reserved in her affection for her students. She had called him honorable. To hear that she was proud to have him in her House meant a lot to him, more than he had realized it would. He also remembered his own words to Ron a few months ago about how he didn't think all of the Slytherins had picked a side in the war yet and he wanted to give them a reason to support him. "Yes professor. And I'll make the apology. By formal, I guess you mean…public?" he said hesitantly. The last thing Harry needed in his life was more attention.

McGonagall gave a rare sympathetic smile, "yes Mr. Potter. Preferably sooner rather than later. A formal apology is a custom that was once part of a great Hogwarts tradition when one House wronged another, and one I feel has unfortunately fallen to the wayside. It fell out of fashion because some felt that it placed too 'embarrassment' on the students. In other words, rich Pureblood parents complained that they're children were actually being held accountable for their actions. Merlin Forbid." Harry gave a startled laugh at her sarcastic criticism of past Headmasters.

She gave him a small smile before saying, "It is supposed to be done when all students are present, so I feel dinner time would be best."

They spent the next several minutes discussing exactly what was expected of Harry as well as what punishment the team would receive. As their Head of House, McGonagall had already decided what _she_ would do but she insisted that as Captain, Harry take a personal stand against the actions of his team. Harry had been quick to point out that not all team members had actually been in the fight and should not be punished for the actions of others. McGonagall was not as inclined to be lenient. None of the surrounding students had sought out help or had intervened to help- a fact that she found almost as bad. Harry also broached the subject of the students that had been involved in the fight but had not been on the team, McGonagall assured him that all students involved in the altercation would be dealt with, but his only concern was to deal with the members of the team.

"I'll leave the consequences of the team up to you, and I trust that you will not disappoint me," she stated sternly. "It is also up to you to decide exactly what you want to say in your apology but my advice is to be clear and to be firm. You are not speaking as a Gryffindor's friend or a Slytherin's enemy- but as a representative of a noble House that has ten centuries of honor to uphold. Do I make myself clear Mr. Potter?"

"Yes professor."

"Very well then, I suppose it's time that you enjoy your breakfast. And Mr. Potter? I must say that I think your mother in particular would be extremely proud of you today. She always did appreciate a person that could take responsibility and do the right thing even when it was bound to be unpopular." Harry smiled at her, despite the sinking feeling that after tonight he was going to be most hated student in Gryffindor Tower.

 _Wouldn't be the first time_ , he reminded himself savagely.

Harry turned back into the Great Hall but did not stop longer than it took to grab a couple of slices of toast. His talk with the professor had taken longer than he would have liked and the Hall was beginning to fill with students. The last thing Harry wanted was to talk to anyone from his House.

Instead he made his way to the Hospital Wing where he found the three younger students that had been unlucky enough to get caught up in a fight with older, more experienced wizards. Although not seriously hurt, Harry still found himself ashamed that he needed to visit kids four years younger than himself because of things his team had done. It made him immensely glad that he had not argued with McGonagall over accepting responsibility.

To say that the Slytherins were shocked that a Gryffindor was apologizing to them was understatement. The boys eyed him with open hostility. One of them had been quick to say that they would not change their story no matter how much Harry threatened them. Harry's clear surprise at the accusation must have made him reassess because the other boy asked him if he had been forced into coming from a professor. Harry tried to tell them that he was there entirely of his own violation- which was true McGonagall had only told him to issue a public apology, not to pay a visit to the injured students- but he had the feeling that his efforts were in vain. The worst was the girl, Cosette, a Second Year who appeared nothing short of terrified at the possibility that he had come merely to intimidate them into changing their story to get his friends out of trouble. She seemed convinced that he was there to pick up where his friends had left off and she did not want to get into another fight after coming off poorly in the last one. Seeing a small boy who looked only slightly more than about half of Harry's height, look at him as though Harry was the equivalent of a Death Eater in his young mind, Harry found himself wondering how House rivalries had gotten so far out of hand in the first place.

Harry then made his way to the library. He was never more grateful that Daphne preferred the hidden corner in the back of the room to study. He dreaded seeing Ginny or Neville and even the idea of speaking to Ron or Hermione (who he was sure had heard about what had happened by now) was enough to make his head throb in protest.

He was there for about an hour, steadily adding to his research when Daphne arrived. It was clear that she was in a testy mood already. "Well, ordinarily I would feel bad for having you start without me but considering that you're an entire _day_ late, I think you're only making up for lost time."

Harry sighed, glancing at his watch. It was only a little after 10 and already he felt as though the day had dragged on forever. "I am sorry about yesterday, but I started on the project. I covered the Broglie Theory but I was still trying to figure out if using two different locator spells helps narrow down the right position or if they just counter-act one another. It seems like a lot of people disagree on what to use. Did you read anything about it yesterday?" he asked, trying to get straight to the point. Over the past few months he had grown to appreciate Daphne as a study partner. Loath as he was to admit, they actually _did_ work well together. Similar enough to have the same goals in a project but different enough to look for what the other missed. And he had even grown to enjoy their banter. Daphne had a quick wit and was not easily offended, which meant that she could be quite funny. But he wasn't in the mood for it today.

Daphne's brow raised and she eyed him critically. "Oh _sorry_ was I meant to spend the day researching our project piece by piece while you were off playing Boy Hero? Because I was under the impression that our grade wasn't going to helped out by the negotiating skills of the Vampire Prince."

Harry gawked at her, "Vampire Prince?" he asked warily. "What are you even on about?"

"Missed the _Prophet_ this morning? Making the headlines too mundane for you now? I guess the novelty of fame has to wear off eventually." She raised a copy of the _Daily Prophet_ and sure enough once again Harry was splashed across the front cover under the blaring headline " **Peacemaker Potter?** "

"What are they claiming I did now?" Harry asked warily. He had not had time to put out his own release about the conference which meant that the Prophet had taken its own twist. His deal with the Ministry technically stated that he had the right to issue his own statement but on large events such as this one he did not have exclusive control over them.

Daphne raised an eyebrow, "you were there, weren't you?"

"That doesn't mean that _Prophet_ will say what actually happened. In my experience they'll take one piece of true information and stick it with a bunch of ridiculous details. You called me Boy Hero so I guess that doesn't mean that I supposedly walked into the village and slaughtered everyone. That's a good sign."

Daphne let out a reluctant chuckle at that one, she was obviously upset with him and was struggling not to let it seem as though she was letting him off the hook too quickly. "See for yourself."

Harry quickly scanned the articles, which he was surprised to note was largely accurate, then again the real story in this case was entertaining enough that he supposed that they didn't need to invent much. He took note that for the time being at least, Tackley's name had thankfully been left out. They were lucky enough that the attack had happened on a weekend and Tackley was not a Head of House which meant that she went largely unseen on weekends and Dumbledore had been quick enough to ensure that she had managed to take her lunch and dinner in the staff room where he had held a few rather long winded meetings the day before. At the moment no one outside of the Aurors present, including Tackley herself, had any clue that she had been present at the negotiations but it wasn't expected to last indefinitely. Eventually someone would mention her presence and then Harry would be in a difficult position but as long as that happened after all the deals were finalized there wasn't much she could do. He nodded at Daphne when he was finished, "well that could have been worse."

"So how much was invented?" Daphne asked, rare curiosity peeking through her usual determined indifference in anything related to him. "I mean aside from that part where they tried to poison you."

"Actually that part was real."

Daphne paused. "They really gave you kohlrabi and wolfsbane?"

Harry glanced up at her, smirking slightly, "Well it wasn't the vampires with the soup in a tent as they put in the articles... it was the werewolves, with a tainted knife on the battlefield," Harry told her with a smirk remembering Dudley's old board game Clue. "But don't be too worried Daphne, I wasn't about to let them kill me before we turned in our project."

This comment elicited a genuine laugh from her, one that was quickly stifled. Harry was looking over the more ridiculous parts when he decided to answer her question. "Well most of what they said about the actual negotiations were right, and both groups have called for a truce. We won't know for a while if all of the packs and clans will accept the deal, rumor has it that some are already aligned with Voldemort so it will be a non-starter since part of the deal is an Unbreakable Vow not to serve Voldemort or any known Death Eater, but over-all it was better than I expected." And it really had been. In spite of the horrors of the battle and the attack that he had suffered from the rogue werewolf, Harry had been surprised by how smoothly everything had gone.

"So another banner day for our illustrious 'Chosen One', then?" Daphne asked skeptically.

"Better than most," Harry answered drily, "But…" Harry glanced down at the article, "I was not 'officially adopted into the Clan and given a Vampire mother that would heal my desperate longing for a maternal figure for the first time' and I definitely did not create some weirdo 'hybrid pack of Vampires and Werewolves that will work solidly alongside the Ministry'. Honestly, that one sounds like it came out of the Quibbler- hybrid Vampires and Werewolves? That's impossible. And even if they _were_ possible, the chances of them wanting to work exclusively for the Ministry are slim to none." Harry shook his head at the sheer stupidity of it all.

"And while you were off saving the Dark Creatures of the world from the wrath of proper wizards-"

"They're not all Dark-"

"This isn't a press conference Potter, you don't have to feed me your party line. As I was saying, while you were off being 'Harry Potter', did you happen to hear about what your little Gryffindor pals have been doing?" she asked accusingly.

Harry stifled a groan but he still lifted his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Daphne, you said it yourself, I wasn't even there. But I do know that team is going to be punished-"

" _Right_ and as Captain, I'm sure you're really going to go out of your way to punish your best friend and your girlfriend. As if using favoritism to get on the team in the first place wasn't bad enough, now the Weasleys are using it get out of trouble too."

"I didn't put anyone on the team that didn't deserve to be there," Harry argued back, his temper rising at the mention of Ginny.

"Of course St. Potter wouldn't do anything as shameful as playing favorites," Daphne quipped with exaggerated piousness. "He's just the perfect defender of everything that's right in the world. Except of course if you count Second Year Slytherins that were in the wrong place at the wrong time. Did you know that Cossette is my cousin? Did you know that she cried for a week when she found out that everyone in this school hates Slytherins so much that she thought that she would never make any friends? I promised her that she would be fine, but aren't I the fool? After all, everyone deserves a fair shot but us, isn't that right, Potter? I heard this morning that Gryffindor threw themselves a nice little party last night to celebrate gaining up on a bunch of kids half their size. Did that make you feel like a real bleeding hero?"

Harry flushed with anger, "I wasn't there!" he shouted at her, if they were in any other part of the library they would have been thrown out for being so loud but in their secluded corner no one bothered them. He took a breath and tried to remember that Daphne was upset about her cousin. "I just told you, the team is getting punished, I spoke to McGonagall this morning about it," Harry stressed, trying hard not to escalate a fight that could get them nowhere. "Now can we please just drop this? We have a lot of work to do."

"Oh brilliant, now you want to work!"

"What is that supposed to mean?" Harry asked hotly. "If you're implying that I make you do all our work, then you have got be kidding me! I had something come up yesterday, _I'm sorry_ , but don't go on and act like this happens all the time."

"I _mean_ ," she cut viciously, sticking her finger at him accusingly, _"_ that you are the most easily distracted person that I have ever met, Potter! If you don't have one of your sidekicks interrupting us, it's one of your _adoring_ fans. Half the time you're more focused on whatever it is you and your enlightened mentor are working on! You might not care much about actually doing well on exams but not all of us have the advantage of falling back on a professional career as the Savior of the Wizarding World. Some of us might actually have to _qualify_ for a real job one day."

And that was when Harry lost all control of his temper.

He jumped up from his chair and glared at her, leaning heavily on the table so that their faces were nose to nose. "I put in just as much work as you do, and you bloody well know it Daphne! Don't you dare claim that you do more than me! We make good partners because we have different skills. I am so bloody tired of you telling me that I should know everything thing you know! Has it ever occurred to you that we were paired up because there were things _you_ didn't know either? You might want to pay attention to the fact that we wouldn't have passed half of our projects without some of _my_ ideas." He pushed himself away from the table, his arms gesturing wildly as he picked up steam.

"And you know what? Sometimes I have more important things on my mind than a stupid school grade! Do you really think Voldemort cares how many NEWTs I get? Do you think he'll back down if I show him a really excellent report? Yeah I get distracted Daphne, but you know what? I was here, early this morning after a fucking awful day, working on a project that you were too good to work on because Merlin forbid you put in an extra _ounce_ of effort than me, because that would really _tragic,_ wouldn't it? That would be really fucking unfair. How could I possibly expect you to do a bit of extra reading when I'm supposed to be off solving everyone else's freaking problems? You want to know unfair, Daphne? If you don't get enough Outstandings on your NEWTs you might not get your dream job, and that would just be awful, right? But what if I fail? I die. That's right Daphne. I _die_ and I die knowing that I ruined it for everyone. And that's the worst of it. Knowing that it's **all on me** to make this alright for everyone else. So next time, why don't you go and deal with the blood-thirsty Vampires and Werewolves and deal with the Ministry that is more worried about its latest press conference than actually killing Voldemort and I'll sit back and complain that I had to spend an extra hour in the library covering for you!"

Harry finished by upending the table in a rage, and turning his back on her, reminding himself that if he punched the stone wall like he really wanted to do, he would very much regret breaking his hand. He was taking deep, ragged breaths and he was slightly stunned at his own words. He had not realized until this very moment how stressed he had become over his responsibilities. He collected himself slowly, letting his pulse slow before turning back around to face her. Daphne was gaping at him, her face pale and her eyes wide and frightened. Despite their frequent spats and her near constant hostility, he had never yelled at her like that before. He was the one that had tried to keep the relationship between the two of them workable, she had often commented that he could be downright stubborn when it came to being polite.

He realized with a grimace that he had said far more to her than he had intended. He had been maintaining a stony silence on his actual role as the so-called 'Chosen One' but his little rant had said more than he had ever intended to share with her. He closed his eyes and evened out his breathing. When he opened his eyes again he was calmer but he could see that Daphne was still speechless.

"I'm sorry Daphne, I shouldn't have gone off like that."

She swallowed and glanced up him, her expression uncommonly timid. "No. No, I'm sorry, I was the one that was starting in on you. I guess… I never really thought about how hard all this must really be on you. You…" she shrugged slightly. "You make it all look really easy. But you're right, you always pull your weight on our projects and that's on top of everything else that you have going on. I suppose…I never stopped to consider the fact that you might not want to do any of it. You could always tell everyone to bugger off and save themselves but… you wouldn't, would you?"

Harry snorted at the idea of just telling the Wizarding World they were on their own, "what, run away? Sounds a bit like a five year old throwing a tantrum. My cousin Dudley threatened to do that once when my aunt said that he couldn't stay over at his friend's house for the weekend. Of course once the idiot realized that he couldn't take a TV in a backpack, he changed his mind rather quickly."

Daphne laughed slightly, she was still looking at him nervously, as though waiting for him to bite her head off again. Harry picked up the table and righted it, pushing in the now scattered chairs. Daphne shifted her weight from one foot to the other and it wasn't until he stopped moving and there seemed to be a need to break the silence that she hesitantly asked, "what's a TV?"

Harry blinked and gave her a slight, crooked smile. "Muggle thing, kinda of like a wireless but with pictures that go along with words. Moving pictures that is, not like muggle photographs." Harry sighed. "Can we just forget this and do our project?"

Daphne looked up at him with surprise clear on her face. She took her seat, perched awkwardly on the end as though she was preparing to spring back up, "You still want to work together?"

Harry looked at her as though she had lost her mind, "we don't really have a choice, do we?"

Daphne winced and he realized he was being rather tactless. He tried to give her a contrite smile as he said, "I meant what I said Daphne, we do work well together. I hide it pretty well from most people but I have a lousy temper, especially when I'm already mad about something else. That…that wasn't about you."

Daphne nodded and took her place at the table but thankfully didn't ask him to elaborate. The hours went by quickly after that. They worked quietly for the most part, only interrupted by the muffled sounds of pages turning, quills scratching and limbs shifting in hard backed chairs. Every once in a while one of them would ask a question about something the other had already read or put out a theory that they had not tried.

They broke an hour for lunch, Daphne going- presumably- to the Great Hall, and Harry choosing to duck into the kitchens, once more putting off the evitable moment when he would have to once again have to face his Housemates. He had no idea what he was meant to say to Ginny. Or Neville for that matter. Kind, bumbling Neville. First to fall off a broomstick on any given day and last person to leave your side when it really mattered. He never would have expected it of him. That was the part of it that was bothering Harry more than anything. He had _known_ them. He had trusted them- both of them- with his very life. For the first time Harry felt like he truly understood how Sirius must have felt when he had realized that Peter Pettigrew had betrayed them. Someone who had been a friend, that he had thought that he known.

He and Neville had never been close friends and yet at the same time he had always felt a sort of fondness for the shy, quiet boy that was unexpectedly brave when it mattered most. Outside of Ron and Hermione he was probably the student at Hogwarts that Harry had respected most and looked to as a sort of moral compass in a House that was often swayed by the latest headline or feeling of the moment. There had also been the fact that he and Neville had a kind of...bond that no one else could really understand. Both of them had lost their parents at a young age from the war and had grown up suffering from the repercussions of a war that they couldn't even remember. It hurt Harry to recognize that he had never fully appreciated the friendship that he had had with Neville until it was shattered beyond repair.

With Ginny there were so many unanswered questions. Was this the first time she had cheated on him? Were there others? Had the whole thing been a lie? He had been with Ginny because he had thought that she was one of the few people that had not cared about his fame, but was that what she had really been after all this time? Was this simply about the secrets he couldn't share or was there something inherently wrong with him that made it impossible for her to care about him the way he had thought he cared for her? And the worst question of all…the question that he had periodically plagued him his entire life no matter how much he worked to silence it- had the Dursleys been right all along, was he too damaged and abnormal for anyone to love?

The questions had swirled in his head all day and it took the greatest of efforts to stay focused on his work. He needed distraction but he couldn't bear the thought of having to discuss what had happened with anyone yet. Even Hermione. Rather than stay alone in the kitchens Harry decided that he needed to worry about real problems and so for the first time in his life Harry sought out Severus Snape of his own free will. He found him, as expected, in the potions classroom brewing potions for the Infirmary as he often did on Sundays.

"Potter," Snape greeted curtly, barely looking up from his work. "Any residual side effects from the potions? Have you used magic yet?" Snape had told him the day before that a common side effect of kohlrabi and wolfsbane was weakened spells for a period of time. He been told to take it easy with complicated or powerful spells until he had recovered fully.

Harry shook his head, "Not really, a couple of simple charms but nothing powerful enough to feel a difference. I had a headache last night and was a bit sore this morning but other than a little tired I'm alright. And I didn't sleep particularly well so that might be why I'm tired," Harry admitted. Snape nodded. "To be expected after the events of yesterday. How... are you alright with everything that happened?" Snape asked awkwardly.

Harry blinked, he had not been prepared for such a question and felt rather suspicion of Snape's newfound consideration for his wellbeing. "Why do you ask?"

Snape did not look up from his cauldron but his shoulders hunched ever so slightly and Harry knew that the man was uncomfortable with the conversation. "You may be have been given an inordinate amount of responsibility but you are still sixteen Potter. Yesterday you witnessed a full battle between Aurors, Hit Wizards and Dark Creatures. You saw some of them die. Anyone would consider that a traumatic experience and it has occurred to me that in the past few people have ever taken the time to discuss such things with you. I thought perhaps that should be rectified."

Harry weighed the words, looking for condescension or perhaps mockery but found none. If anything Snape was being strangely- if overly awkwardly- compassionate. "I'm... well it wasn't easy," Harry admitted quietly, and for a second he could smell the acrid scent of sweat, singed clothing and smoldering fires from the stray curses. His ears had echoed with the yells from the injured as he had gone back to the dorm. He had a momentary flash of dark humor as he considered that he should be thanking Neville and Ginny for giving him such a thorough shock that it had temporarily made him forget the trauma of the day. "It might be terrible to say but it's easier that I didn't really know anyone that died yesterday. I still bad for their families and honestly it makes me angry that the whole thing happened at all. The whole thing felt sort of... pointless," Harry shook his head. "The Ministry never should have gone after them in the first place but... I guess it helps that you and I got to stop it from going any further."

Snape nodded curtly, his attention largely focused on his potion but Harry could see the man's calculating eyes sizing him up, seeing if he was being entirely truthful. "War always has causalities. Always. If there is one thing I have learned in my life is that the only thing you can try and do is mitigate the damage sustained by those closest to you. At times..." Snape's voice grew unexpectedly rough, "that proves to be impossible. But there is no shame in wanting it or trying your best to protect those you that care about most. Even at the expense of others."

Harry stared up at the dark-clad man that had never seemed to care about anyone in his life and wondered if Snape had perhaps lost someone in the First War, someone that he had cared about deeply. For as long as Harry had known the Potion's Master he had been an unhappy and bitter man, and even in the brief flashes he had seen of him as a teenager- both through Leglimency and in the pensieve- he had seen an equally reclusive and troubled boy. Was there some buried part of Snape that had known what it meant to truly care for another person? Harry found the idea strangely troubling for a reason he could not quite name at the moment.

"Makes the whole worse though, don't you think?" Harry asked cynically. "Everyone cares about someone, and just about everyone at some point learns what its like to lose someone- so why are we all so determined to give that pain to someone else? I didn't know the people that died but they still had friends and family that cared about them. It's just...pointless," he repeated, because it was the only thing he could think to say.

"There's no point in feeling guilty about the faults of the human race Potter. For all of our classifications on Dark Creatures, humans are probably the only species that chose evil simply out of convenience. This is the way it has always been in there's no sense in lamenting that which can't be changed." Harsh though the words may have been, Harry could find no fault in the logic of them.

A part of him wanted to mention the self-doubt that he still felt about their plans. The worries that things could still go wrong, only now if they did it wasn't just affecting the people of Great Britain but all over Europe and it would all his fault. But as much as his relationship with Snape had reluctantly changed this year he was not prepared to turn to him with his insecurities, instead he asked, "Are you alright, sir?" They had both been in the battle but unlike himself, Snape had willingly taken a man's life. No matter how cold the man appeared, that must have meant something.

Snape raised an eyebrow in his direction. "I appreciate the concern Potter but I am much older than you. And unlike yourself I wasn't dragged into this fight at birth, I chose to be a part of it. In every capacity," he added. "For those decisions I bear responsibility."

Harry frowned, "I don't think you outgrow emotion."

Snape's posture tightened slightly and Harry recognized it as a defensive stance, and sure enough the next comment was designed to sting. "Nevertheless Potter, I learned a long time ago how to separate myself from emotion. You, as I recall, have never been particularly good at that."

Harry knew that it was a shot about his own terrible performance at Occulumency but Harry could only think about the vision that he had witnessed in which, through Voldemort's eyes, he could sense something from everyone in the room but Snape. And how he had felt Voldemort's admiration and his own horror at such a revelation.

Harry wasn't sure why he suddenly felt strangely protective of the same man that he had hated so long and still could not find it in himself to like, but in that moment he had an odd sense of clarity. A certainty that Snape needed to hear that emotions were important, vital even, to a person's life. Maybe it was as simple as believing that if Snape had once cared about someone than he could do so again.

"Last year after Sirius died, Dumbledore told me that feeling pain is what makes us human," Harry gave a bitter laugh. "I hated him for saying that at the time but... he was right. Yesterday... yesterday was scary and horrible and I hope I never have do something like that again. But I probably will," he admitted with a sigh. "But I think I rather know that I feel horrible about it than not feel anything. Because bad feelings... they eventually go away," Harry was speaking as much to himself as he was to his professor at the moment, reminding himself that he could get through anything. "But I think when you stop feeling anything it's really hard to start up again."

Snape was quite for a long moment, for once his sarcasm and criticism abandoning him.

Feeling that both of them had strayed into territory too intimate for their own comfort Harry took the opportunity to change the subject back to the reason he had come in the first place. "Actually sir, the reason I came down here was because I wanted to make sure that Voldemort- right sorry 'the Dark Lord'" Harry said, rather irritated as Snape flared with anger at hearing the name. "If he had any response to our deal yet."

Snape glared at him, "Potter, you might be under some teenage delusion that we are now partners in crime and will no doubt create catchy little nicknames for one another as your moronic father and his imbecilic friends once did, but let me bring you back to reality. The information that I gain from either the Dark Lord or the Death Eaters is for the Headmaster or, given the right occasions, the Order of the Phoenix. You are not the Headmaster nor are you a member of the Order. Do you need further explanation?"

Harry gritted his teeth and remembered vividly why he disliked this man so much. "Sir," he said with as much control as possible. "I think it's more than reasonable to want to know if there has been a reaction to the plan that I helped set in motion!"

Snape was silent for a moment before relenting. "He has not summoned anyone as of us as of yet to the best of my knowledge. He seems to be... consumed at the moment with his search for the Founder's Objects. I- I would venture to say that he is close to finding at least one of them and at the moment our concern is how greatly that will him further his cause."

This was certainly turning out to be banner day.

HPHPHPHPHP

Harry returned to the library and settled into to work. He had never been more thankful for a lengthy school project. The need to only read and write, to speak occasionally to Daphne- they were the only thing keeping the return of his terrible thoughts from driving him over the edge. There were times when he realized he had read a whole page without taking in any information or else instead of taking proper notes instead he had written down his own thoughts. His parchments was littered with cross outs and Daphne had glanced over more than once at his groans of frustration. Still he had managed to work steadily and the quiet of the library, interrupted only by the rhythm of the quill scratching, seemed to calm him as the afternoon stretched on.

By the time the sun had set and Harry had to get ready to leave for dinner they had made a good amount of progress. Harry stood and cracked his stiff spine. He rubbed the sore spot on the side of his neck that was aching from leaning over the desk for so long. "I really don't give Hermione enough credit," he muttered. "Studying like this all day is worse than Quidditch practice."

Daphne smirked at him and rolled her eyes, "I somehow have a feeling that you're forgetting what practices were like under Oliver Wood."

Harry chuckled, "you have a point there. Was it that obvious that he was bloody slave driver?"

Daphne smirked, pulling her long black hair from her robes and running it through her fingers as though hours of activity had flattened it to her head and she felt the need to pump more life into it. Harry had never noticed the way it cascaded down her shoulders before, it was longer than Ginny's. Daphne chuckled, breaking his thoughts, as she said, "I remember him standing outside of the Slytherin Common room our Second Year screaming for Flint to change back his pitch times so that you lot could practice and Flint was inside- cowering, by the way- muttering about how the Gryffindor team was already out there every day at the crack of dawn as it was!"

Harry laughed at the thought of the hulking form of Marcus Flint cowering away from an enraged but smaller Wood when the latter felt that his Quidditch practices were in danger. "Yeah Wood was…determined. Speaking of Quidditch, you might not want to be late to dinner tonight."

"What does dinner have to do with Quidditch?"

"Just some friendly advice?" Harry said giving her a wink that seemed to startle her. "See you…Tuesday during free period? We can go over the practical bit of it."

"Alright," she agreed. "And Harry… I really am sorry about earlier."

Harry blinked, surprised that she had apparently been feeling guilty all this time, he shrugged, "don't be... this might sound awful but I felt a lot better after I got to yell at someone so...er thank you." Daphne raised an eyebrow, giving him an unreadable look for a long moment before turning and heading out for dinner.

HPHPHP

Harry had to take a deep breath before walking into the Great Hall. For the first time it occurred to him that the story of Ginny cheating on him may not have travelled as far as he had feared. Daphne had made no reference to it all day, she had called Ginny his girlfriend that morning and had not seemed to have found anything out during the lunch hour to correct that assumption. Perhaps, for once, the gossip mill of Hogwarts was keeping a tight lid on things.

Those hopes were shattered the minute Harry stepped into the Hall. Dozens of eyes from all four tables found him. Some of the Slytherins were laughing, a few of the Hufflepuffs were looking at him as though they were going to cry, and many of the girls from all four Houses were giving him those appraising looks that they had given him in the beginning of the year and had only lost once he had officially been taken off the market. Hermione spotted him and made a beeline towards him, pulling him towards the end of the table. "I've been looking for you all day," she hissed at him. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he insisted but allowed her to take his arm and lead him to the edge of table. "I was in the library all day working on the Charms Project with Daphne."

"All day?"

"It's a hard project Hermione. Are you going to tell me you and Terry called it a done job after an hour?"

Hermione was eyeing him suspiciously, trying to catch him out in a lie. "Is it true?" she asked quietly.

"About Ginny and Neville?" he asked.

"No," she deadpanned. "I was asking if you really are a Vampire Prince with complete immunity to Wizarding Laws."

Harry gave a startled laugh, "complete immunity? Who came up with that one? That's brilliant!"

Hermione huffed but at seeing his expression her own lip twitched as well, "I think it actually came from the Ravenclaws, Avis Belfours' father works for Department of Control of Magical Creatures and apparently she was telling everyone that she had heard that they made you a special deal to do whatever it took to keep 'the dark beasts of the Wizarding World' under control."

Harry laughed, "You know, I think Ron's rubbing off on me, I'm starting to really like the more ridiculous stories that people come up with."

Hermione waved him away, "are you going to answer my question?"

Harry sobered and gave her a mock glare, "way to kill the mood Hermione. Yes, it's true."

"Ginny and Neville? I can't believe it."

"Honestly Hermione, if I hadn't seen it with my own two eyes I wouldn't have believed it either," Harry sighed, rubbing his eyes under his glasses. He knew now that he had been smart to avoid everyone for the day, he really didn't want to talk about this.

"You don't think…I mean could they have been Confunded? Or under a love potion? Imperius, maybe? There could be an explanation."

"Definitely not the Imperius, I was looking them right in the eyes, they knew exactly what they were doing and they had full control over it."

"Harry, I know you always think that you can tell when someone's under the Imperius Curse but Thackley says…"

"She's wrong Hermione. I told you, I don't trust her. She's telling us things that Voldemort wants us to believe."

"Harry she is **not** a Death Eater!"

Harry let out a slow breath. "Fine. But all the same, Ginny and Neville were not under the Imperius Curse." Hermione looked rather shocked by the way he had backed down from the old argument over their professor but at the moment Harry didn't have the energy for it.

"But it might have been some other enchantment," she insisted.

Harry shrugged non-committedly, he sighed tiredly at her denial, "I suppose…I don't think so Hermione but… it would be nice to think that."

She gave him a sympathetic look and he knew that he must have sounded as exhausted as he felt by the whole thing. "Do you want me to talk to them? See if I can figure it out?"

"You haven't talked to them yet?"

Hermione shook her head. "I heard the story from Parvati, who heard it from Lavender who…heard it from Ron, but I wasn't sure if it was true or not. Or what you wanted me to do."

"Cheers Hermione, thanks for holding back, I know that you hate that." He was sincere when he said that he knew that Hermione hated not interfering. She liked to fix things, especially for the people that she cared about and she was usually utterly convinced that she was the best person to sort out difficult situations. However, for now he was glad that she hadn't spoken to them yet. Harry was still trying to work out how he was feeling. Every now and then he would feel a burst of anger but the dominating feeling was that of…hurt. Harry had so few people that he truly trusted and it had taken him so long to get even those. To discover that he had been so wrong about two people that he had been so certain would never hurt him… it made him hollow.

Hermione was cut off from speaking by McGonagall's call for quiet in the hall. "Students, quiet please. If I might have a moment of your time, there is a serious matter I wish to discuss with you all. Some of you have been students of Hogwarts for several years, others of you are fairly new to our institution but I hope that all of you have come to feel that Hogwarts is your home. And that you are surrounded by family. That being said, there is nothing more horrible than a person that is not able to feel safe in their own home. That is not able to feel trust for the other members of their family.

"Over the years we, as professors, have encouraged what we believed to be a healthy school rivalry between our Houses. The goal of this rivalry was to encourage every student to do their very best and to have pride in themselves and in their peers. We have also turned a seemingly blind eye to what some have thought of as youthful… antagonism between the Houses. Childish pranks. Foolish banter. School boy and girl grudges. We allowed them build and fester, believing it was up to our students to fix them just as we had been expected to fix them when we were younger. It is part of growing up.

"I have found that I can longer abide this tradition. These grudges are not fixed. They have been blown out of proportion and oftentimes I have seen them follow students into their adult lives. And so I have decided- it stops today. Yesterday, I am appalled to say that members of my House, Gryffindors that were selected for the honor of playing on the Quidditch team, students that were supposed to be _models_ of behavior for others, alongside other older students that also should have known better were caught attacking students of Slytherin House. I have never been more ashamed of my House than when I heard what they- _we_ \- had done. I have spoken to the Captain of the Gryffindor Team and _we_ have decided that a formal apology between Houses is owed. Mr. Potter…if you will."

Hermione looked over at him in surprise, and Harry knew that she had expected him to say something about this earlier. Harry got to his feet and made his way unhurriedly towards the front. There was a din of muttered comments but Harry refused to listen to them. He had already decided what he was going to say. The worst of it was knowing who he had to make the apology to… instead of worrying about the smug expression on Malfoy's face, he remembered the expressions on the younger students in the hospital wing. The ones that had not even believed that he would care that they were injured.

When he reached the front he turned slowly until he was facing the Slytherin table, but was still open enough that the rest of the Hall could see his face. He let out a slow breath, his heart was hammering in his chest and his hands were sweating. He had not realized how hard this would be and felt a stab of anger at his team for putting him in this position. "As Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team I wanted to tell Draco Malfoy and the rest of the Slytherin team, that the Gryffindor team was wrong to attack them on the field yesterday. I am truly sorry that injuries were caused to Cosette Swelyn, Thaddeus Moxly and Axle Covington. I saw all three of them in the hospital wing this morning and I'm glad to see that all three of them have recovered enough to be released tonight." He smiled at them and was surprised to see that Cosette shyly returned the smile. Moxly and Covington were also looking at him with an open expression than he hadn't seen from them before. It wasn't exactly friendly but there was none of the suspicion that he had received from them that morning.

"I…I never intended for my team to hurt anyone while I was in charge but as the Captain of the team it is my responsibility to deal with it. I have spoken to Professor McGonagall and together we agreed that the entire team, myself included, will serve detentions for a week. In addition to that, the members of the team that threw spells in the fight- that would be Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley, Dean Thomas, and Jimmy Peakes," Harry steeled himself for this announcement, as not only was he having to reprimand two of his own dorm mates but this decision would make him the single most hated person in Gryffindor Tower for the foreseeable future. "You're all suspended for the next game."

As expected this announcement rocked the Hall greater than a bombshell. There were cheers from both Slytherins and the Hufflepuff tables, the Hufflepuffs had assembled a mediocre team and had been predicted to show terribly but Harry had just guaranteed them victory. The Gryffindors were screaming their indignation and the Ravenclaws were also up in arms over the late season change up for the Cup as well as the fact that the Slytherins had been harassing their practices for several weeks and would now essentially be rewarded. A landslide victory from Hufflepuff might upset the overall points and could wind up costing Ravenclaw- the overall favorite that year for the Cup for the first time in several years- the Quidditch Cup.

Harry used every ounce of willpower he possessed to remain standing there, his face stern and impassive, in the face of such heated criticism from his own House. He waited coolly until Dumbledore himself had signaled for silence. No one was prepared to disobey an order from the Headmaster and once Dumbledore nodded to him, Harry spoke again. "Gryffindors don't attack younger, defenseless students- no matter what House they belong too."

"But Demelza and I didn't do anything!" Richie shouted out. "We shouldn't have a week of detention."

McGonagall stepped forward and opened her mouth to respond but Harry spoke over her.

"We're a team. We win together, we lose together. I told you that you that in the beginning of the season and I meant it. You didn't stop them, did you? Well neither did I. We will stand by our teammates. As for the rest of it…there are three weeks before the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff match and our team will be missing a week due to detention. Anyone interested in stepping in for the next match, come and find me. We'll be having all day practice during the next Hogsmeade weekend- mandatory for **all** team members whether suspended or not. If you want to play again this season, you better show up and help with training. If you don't show up, remember that chances are I'll still be captain next year and if you're not there I can guarantee that you won't be on the team next year either," Harry turned to the Slytherin House once more.

"Who said you'll still be Captain next year Potter!" a Fifth Year student Harry didn't recognize interrupted. This was echoed up and down the Gryffindor Table and a group of Fourth Years even started to chant Ginny's name as a replacement. Harry was determined not to look at her, he refused to watch her gloat.

This time McGonagall did step forward, "I believe the decision for captaincy of the team is mine Mr. Wilkes and I can assure you that I am deeply impressed by Mr. Potter's commitment to integrity. Barring any future events, you have _my_ assurances that he will maintain his position." She nodded at him and steeled himself for the worst bit of it. He had apologize to Malfoy of all people.

"Malfoy… as Captain of the Slytherin team I am asking you to accept the official apology of the Gryffindor Quidditch team for an unwarranted attack against members of your House and I am also asking you to assure me that you will do everything in your power to make sure there will be no…retaliation from your end." The first part was part of the old tradition that McGonagall had told me to say in order to keep things on the right track. She was convinced that if Slytherin accepted the apology publicly they would feel compelled to act with honor in the future. Harry was less convinced of Malfoy's better nature and had added the second part on his own.

Draco Malfoy stood up slowly, clearly savoring this moment. Harry could not remember the last time the other boy had been so happy. Probably not since the previous year, before his father had been sent to Azkaban and his mother had suffered her breakdown. Certainly not since he had gotten himself entangled with the 'Dark Lord'.

Harry hoped that he wouldn't have to suffer the indignity of a long drawn out, and self-important, speech. Draco sauntered slowly to the dais.

"As long as you're willing to admit it Potter," he said with a smirk. He held out his hand, "we accept."

Harry took it. He had never felt a colder handshake.

 **A/N: Thanks for your thoughts on the last chapter. I should either end on a cliffhanger more often or just default to making Ginny a villain because last chapter got just about my best response yet! Next chapter Harry is going to be confronting both Ginny and Neville (separately) but it seemed to me that in times of great stress Harry seems to retreat a bit and I felt that his shock was so intense that he couldn't fully process it. He had just come from a full out battle, is blindsided by the Quidditch fight and then completely knocked for a loop by seeing his girlfriend (whom he was just about to confess to being in love with) in bed with probably his closest friend outside of Ron and Hermione. So Harry started numb and got angry later- and trust me for once, he is really angry.**


	32. Reaping What We Sow

**Chapter 32: Reaping What We Sow**

' _You're worth twelve of Malfoy'_

– _Harry Potter to Neville Longbottom, First Year_

 **Ginny's POV**

Ginny watched in horror as Harry made a swift exit from the dais. _Suspended._ The thing that she loved most about going Hogwarts and she wasn't even allowed to play. She was consumed by a feeling of unfairness about the whole thing. After all, Harry had been appalled, furious even, when Umbridge had barred him from playing because of fighting but here he was cheerfully taking out half of his team because nowadays Harry was 'Mr. Responsibility'. 'The Chosen One'- Merlin forbid he be seen doing the wrong thing. The same boy that had brooded and complained right alongside them all the previous year about not being told anything about the war was now keeping _her_ in the dark. When Harry had been welcomed into the fold he had certainly adapted well.

It seemed to Ginny that Harry was refusing to acknowledge that she was not some silly school girl that needed to stay locked away in an ivory tower waiting for her hero to come and save the day. Last year Harry had been one of _them_ , but ever since he had made his deal with the Ministry he had been granted access to information that only members of the Order knew and it had changed him. Harry was so concerned with proving to everyone that he was the Ministry Good Boy that he had forgotten who his real friends were- and in spite of everything Ginny felt a thrill of vindictive pleasure that he was about to be harshly reminded about where his real loyalty should have been. Gryffindor was not going to take this lightly.

But as she continued to watch him making his way back to his seat, her burst of anger started to fade back to the churning guilt that she had felt all day. Harry was walking with his posture straight, his feet moving quickly without rushing before taking a seat and determinedly filling his plate with roast chicken and more greens than his usual custom, seemingly impervious to the vicious taunts and objections that were being liberally thrown around by his own Housemates, but Ginny knew better. Harry had a way of masking his hurt and pain better than anyone she had ever met and knew the more stoic that he was acting, the more likely it was that he was dying inside.

But none of that changed the fact that she was honestly confused by his reaction, everything about how he had reacted had surprised her and had left her feeling uneasy. Ginny had spent her childhood dreaming of the boy who had destroyed the most evil wizard in a century. It had been her favorite story before she went to sleep, her favorite make believe game with her brothers and her dearest wish had been to meet him. And when she finally had, he had somehow managed to both disappoint her and surpass her expectations. He wasn't as outgoing or charming as she had envisioned and, when he had been younger, he had not been as handsome. He was a brilliant Quidditch player but had only been an average student and more quiet and shy than she had ever expected him to be. He was a boy which meant that he could be rude and insensitive and nothing at all like the fantasy she had created.

But he was also impossibly brave. Nothing in Ginny's wildest fantasies had prepared her for Harry Potter to save her from Tom Riddle in her First Year while at the same time fighting a basilisk single-handedly while recovering the sword of Gryffindor after it had been lost for well over a century. It was more than she had ever expected and yet it was after this awe-inspiring event that she had started to notice the smaller things that truly set him appart.

His strength and refusal to accept anything less than the best from himself were the same things she strove to show others about herself. Growing up the youngest of seven and the only girl, Ginny had had to prove over and over again that she was tough enough to take whatever her older brothers dished out. Everything that they had been able to do, Ginny had had to do better and at a younger age and she felt that Harry had understood that about her. She had thought that Harry had seen her as more than Ron's little sister or- and she dreaded thinking about it- the silly girl that he had been forced to save from the Chamber of Secrets due to her own stupidity. Harry was independent, both physically and emotionally in ways that a Weasley could never fully understand but she had admired.

But these days, Harry's reticence frustrated her to no end. It was hypocritical in the extreme to demand information at the age of 15, only to be able to get it at 16 and turn around and keep it from her because she was only a year younger. He claimed that it wasn't because of her age or because he didn't trust her and instead blamed his secrecy on promises to Dumbledore. But he had ensured that Ron and Hermione could know. He had proven in the past that unlike a lot of other people Harry didn't follow everything Dumbledore said to the letter. If he had truly wanted to tell her, he would have. But it wasn't only the secrets about the war that bothered her, it was the fact that he didn't want to share anything with her. His feelings, his fears, his past- all the things that a girlfriend should know about their boyfriend and he refused to grant her that full position in his life.

More than anything Ginny had wanted to make sure that Harry would not- _could not_ \- overlook her any longer. She was tired of the secrets and if she couldn't persuade him nicely, she would shock him into it. Ginny was not looking to be the contented little girlfriend that he shared his adventures with after the fact, she wanted to be his full partner in every sense of the word. She had argued, she had begged and she had tried to seduce it out of him but Harry had held strong in his resolve that the war was separate from their relationship. She had even let the matter briefly drop over the holidays so that he could come to right conclusion on his own but after weeks and weeks of trying to get him to see reason she had finally settled on a plan that would make him irrationally angry. Angry enough to propel him into a proper argument that would force him to fight for what they had.

Harry had a way of hiding bad emotions- guilt, fear, and insecurity- like a dirty secret. She suspected it was due to the fact that he had never received comfort or reassurance as a child and had grown not to expect as a teenager, but of course she could not be certain as he never explained it to her fully. The only emotion that he had always been unable to hide was anger. When he was angry his eyes burned and his thin muscles quivered with indignation. He yelled and acted impulsively, made mistakes. It was a trait that he had gotten remarkable control over in the past year but there had been small slips. A few shouted words at an overly frustrating Quidditch practice, the confrontation with Hermione's parents at the station, and especially with Percy. So Ginny had set out to make him angry and instead he had left. And now, judging from the cool expression and the cool, collected speech had had just delivered to the Hall, he wasn't angry at the moment. Or if he was angry it wasn't visceral, the way personal things drew his rage. He might have been sad, or perhaps guilty that he had just ruined his own team's chances at the Cup but he wasn't angry and this shocked her more than she expected. Anger should could have dealt with, but this distant indifference was more hurtful than she had been prepared to handle.

She had made a huge mistake and she knew it. She had given her virginity away to a boy that she had no real feelings for, just to spite the man that she loved. She had been so angry with Harry these past weeks. The secrets. The demands on his time from so many different people. His reticence in opening up to others- especially her. But mostly it was about the fact that her mother had once told her that all good relationships were about balance and she felt that the two of them had none.

She had shared _everything_ with him. All of her fears about the war, her struggles with nightmares after the Chamber, her insecurities about herself. But Harry had never shared those things with her. Instead he made vague references to the fact that he was overwhelmed by his workload. That he was nervous about the vampires. He told her that he doubted his own abilities, but he had never shared what his real role in the war or what his childhood had been like and Ginny had grown to resent that day by day.

She had told him- months ago- that she would never make him talk about the Dursleys, and at the time she had been entirely truthful. _At the time_ when so many people were pushing to him talk, to share his feelings and his pain so that he could start to heal, she had wanted to be the person that he could relax around. She had wanted to give him one person that wasn't going to start every conversation with 'are you feeling alright?' or 'you know that you can talk to me…I want to listen', Harry had had to hear that so many times from so many different people and she could see that he had felt overwhelmed by it.

And she had meant it _at the time_. She had wanted him to relax and feel good and be able to laugh or play Quidditch without everyone wondering if he was hiding horrible scars on the outside and inside. She had set out to be his friend without the pressure of opening up but as time had gone on and they gotten closer, when they had shifted from being friends to being something more, she hadn't even realized that her expectations had shifted too. She wanted to know about his life. She wanted to know if he really _was_ alright. If she was the person that Harry was supposed to care most about in the world…didn't that mean that she should get to know everything about him? The good and the bad?

This year Harry had grown so... different than he used to be and had needed to do something that would shock him into action but more than that, Neville had understood her in a way that Harry just didn't seem to. When the Slytherins had started their usual taunting, she was not about to sit back and take it and neither was Neville. They had faced them down together and in the aftermath... there had been undercurrent of... appreciation for one another that she had not expected.

But then her expectations had been off all day, hadn't they? She had expected Harry to be furious with her and Neville but his cool demeanor told a different story. " _I wanted to talk…never mind."_ _ **Never Mind**_. It had echoed in her thoughts all day because somehow Harry had picked the cruelest words to tell her in that moment. He hadn't yelled or screamed at them. He hadn't punched Neville or threatened her. Ginny had wanted a real reaction from him. After weeks of being pushed subtly aside she had finally done something that he couldn't ignore, and then he had said those hollow words and had left silently. It had left her feeling cold afterwards. It wasn't until after Harry had walked out that she had realized that Harry had never really ignored her before. It was true that he hadn't told her things that she had wanted to know but he had always listened to her, comforted her, and been there when he really needed her.

Dinner was tense and Ginny could hear that the Gryffindors were not being quiet in their disapproval of Harry's stance on the fight between the Houses. Some were openly calling him a traitor to the House, others were claiming that he was kissing up to McGonagall but the overwhelming majority seemed to feel that Harry had taken it upon himself to be the moral compass of the House- a position that no one had asked him to fill and the other teens found debasing to come from one of their own.

Harry, for his part, was blocking them out and quietly talking with Hermione. She couldn't make out what they were saying but from the tenor of their conversation Hermione seemed to be trying to get Harry to say something and Harry was shaking his head as though to indicate that whatever it was she was asking was unimportant. Ginny wondered what it was that Hermione was asking about. She knew from experience that Hermione liked to discuss problems to death. She was never satisfied until she felt that every single avenue was explored. Was she and Harry discussing Harry's speech and the obvious rift he had just formed with his classmates? Was she asking about Harry's latest adventure with the Vampires and werewolves? The _Prophet_ had had quite a bit to say about it and in spite of her current…displeasure with Harry, she could not deny that she was also curious as to what had really happened. Or was Hermione asking him about the events of the previous night? If that were the case, Ginny wondered what Harry was saying. When he had walked out last night she had not known what to think but had thought that perhaps he had gone off to blow off steam. But he had not returned all day and when he finally come back for dinner, that perfect mask was back in place and Ginny felt her old frustration build inside her.

She glanced up and down the table and caught the many angry glares focused on their Quidditch Captain- and the one reserved solely for herself. Ron had been furious with her and Neville and unlike Harry, he had fully expressed himself. Over the years, Ginny had had more than a few fights with her brothers and due to their close relative ages the grand majority of those arguments had even been with Ron, but she had never seen him as livid as she had the previous night. He had screamed at them both for quite a while until Seamus had finally dragged him away, only for him to corner both of them separately the next day to make it clear that his anger had not abated in the least. Ginny was not quite sure what he had said Neville but she had gotten quite the lecture on using his best friend and putting herself out as a 'scarlet woman'. Ginny had argued to defend herself but Ron had not been interested in hearing anything that she had had to say.

Ron had been in a strange mood ever since his appointment with the Mind Healer over the holidays, quiet and distant with them all of them, even Harry. Harry had mentioned quite a few times his frustration with the fact that Ron had been consistently occupied and Ginny felt that his sudden attachment to Lavender was convenient for more than just satisfying his raging hormones. Though they had all been assured that Ron was not suffering from any major illnesses, she still suspected that there had been more said in the appointment than he was telling them. However, she found herself wishing back the days when Ron had been avoiding her because his anger and disappointment only fueled her own guilt at the situation.

"You've been quiet," Oliva Hollander commented, her gaze watching Ginny closely. Olivia was one of her dorm mates and as of yet had been one of the only people not to have something to say about what Ginny had done with Neville. Most of Gryffindor Tower had been fairly shocked when they had heard of the twisted triangle of the Sixth Year Boys Dorm. While it was far from uncommon for co-eds to sneak out of the dorm to find one of the many hidden spots in the castle for some…intimate time together, it was very far from common for it to be done blatantly in the shared Boys Dormitory. Much less was it usual for it to be done mere feet from the bed of the boy the girl was supposedly seeing.

Ginny had thought that she had gotten fairly used to whispers and rumors, of having the feeling of mysterious eyes travelling after her around the Tower and the Great Hall when she had started dating Harry. As the 'Chosen One', and a very good looking guy in his own right, Harry had been Hogwarts' most eligible bachelor since the start of the year. The fact that he didn't jump from girl to girl but instead seemed to be interested in finding one that he really cared about only made him more desirable to the vapid girls that were attracted more to his fame and popularity than the real Harry. When she and Harry had first been made public as a couple- she had gotten mixed reviews. Some girls were jealous but mostly awestruck that she had been the one that Harry had finally singled out. Others had felt that she wasn't good enough. Some- Romilda Vane leading the pack- had not-too-subtly raised the question of whether or not Harry was under the influences of love potion.

But that attention was nothing to the gossip mill that had followed her today. She had not been able to go more than three feet without hearing her name whispered behind her back or else having some barely known acquaintance come up to her for the real story. The words 'slut' and 'whore' had been thrown about none-to-subtly, though Ginny found it somewhat funny that the same people that had demonized her all day had quickly swayed to her side after Harry's Quidditch announcement.

"What do you expect I should say?" Ginny asked with more annoyance than was probably necessary. She was so tired of having people butt into her personal business that day.

Olivia raised her brows at her tone and gave Ginny an unimpressed luck. The two of them were friends, had been since Second Year when it had been Olivia to go out of her way and make friends with Ginny after the disastrous events of her traumatic First Year. The two of them had always been close and Ginny grimaced an apology at her tone. "Sorry Liv, I'm just so bloody tired of everyone having a say in what I did. It has nothing to do with them."

"Really?" Olivia asked calmly. "I thought that when a girl sleeps with one of her boyfriend's best friends in his own dorm, she's making a rather bold statement."

"In case everyone forgot, Neville was there too, but no one seems to think that he did anything particularly horrible. People have been glaring me down all day."

"First of all, you can't be surprised that as the girl you're the slut in this."

Ginny glared at her and Olivia raised her hands, "I didn't say that it was right, I was saying that's how it is. People have this wonderful notion that just because they realize something's sexist it means that it shouldn't happen, but that's not how the world works Ginny. It's one of the great ironies of the world- men love sex (usually with women) but Merlin forbid a woman sleeps with more than one of them or seems to enjoy it as well, and she's in the wrong. To the boys, Neville's a bleeding hero. He got to sleep with the most attractive girl in Gryffindor- and yes Ginny don't play the false modest you know that you outshine the Sixth and Seventh Years- and put one over on the 'Chosen One'. You and Harry were the golden couple of Hogwarts… and now Neville has broken you up."

Ginny frowned but couldn't deny what Olivia was saying. Olivia moved her to next point, "And before you start feeling too sorry for yourself, I happen to know that a lot of other people have been telling you that Potter had it coming after he ran off with Hermione Granger. Which, for the record, I don't buy those two together at all. The two of them have been friends for years and unlike Hermione and your brother who have been dancing around each other over a year now, she and Harry have never seemed to have that…spark, you know?"

Ginny let out a harsh breath through her nose, "I know what you mean, but when it comes to Harry and Hermione it's not about what they do when they're together. I'm not an idiot, I never thought that Harry would cheat on me with Hermione. He told me once that Hermione is the older sister he never had. I don't think it's ever crossed his mind to actually kiss her, and forget about doing anything else with her. Did you know that Cho Chang was jealous of the two of them last year? Hermione was the one that told me- before Harry and I were together. She said that Cho would make all these comments about how she and Harry would spend all this time together and Harry didn't even connect the fact that she thought they were fooling around. He was absolutely clueless." Ginny smiled briefly at the memory of Hermione that summer, telling her the story at the Ministry during one of their breaks in training. Ron had been off with some of the boys and she and Hermione had starting chatting about Dean and the complications with a summer away from a boy. Which had of course had then lead to a round discussion on the cluelessness of boys in general. Hermione had gone on to explain how Harry had unintentionally made the girl that he fancied upset by being friends with a girl, and having no earthly idea that an outsider might get the wrong idea about the pair of them.

' _I felt a bit bad that I ruined their date together to be honest', Hermione confessed. 'It never occurred to me that Harry would just say in the middle of it, 'hey I have to go see another girl', to his date! Honestly, I usually think that Harry is at least better than Ron at that sort of thing but when it comes to actually dating, Harry is rather hopeless.' Hermione chuckled as she added, 'You should have seen his face when I told him that he should have mentioned that he thought I was rather ugly to her, he was horrified about it! After being friends with him for so long sometimes I forget that Harry really can be the kindest person I know.'_

 _Ginny shook her head, laughing herself at the idea of Harry valiantly defending Hermione against her own imagined insult. One of the things she had always liked about Harry the most was the fact that he hated when other people were upset._

' _Did he ever get a chance to explain to her what happened?' Ginny asked, unsure if she wanted things to work out with Harry and another girl. She firmly reminded herself that she was past her crush on Harry. She had moved on to different boys and refused to dwell on a boy that wasn't interested in her. She deserved better than an unrequited crush._

 _Hermione shrugged, 'I think Harry said that she forgave him after she read the article and knew what he had been doing at the meeting. But then the whole thing with Marietta came out and Cho took her side and… well to be honest if there's one thing Harry won't ever excuse in a relationship it's someone who sides against him in the war.'_

 _Ginny raised her eyebrows at that. 'Not that I like what she did but Marietta didn't think that she was taking sides in a war, she thought that she was helping the Ministry. The Ministry was terrible last year but they weren't exactly siding with You-Know-Who.'_

 _Hermione shook her head, 'But going along with the Ministry, which was so corrupt it was unconscionable, was helping Voldemort get stronger. Harry could see that. Harry's willing to do anything to stop Voldemort, and well, just about anything less from anyone else is unforgivable in his eyes'._

"So what is your problem with Hermione?" Olivia asked, yanking her back to the present. Ginny blinked, confused by the question.

"You said 'when it comes to Harry and Hermione it's not what _do_ ,' so what is the problem?"

Ginny felt herself flush with renewed temper. "It's that he tells her everything instead of me. Harry's been… Harry never talks to me about the war, or at least never about anything important. Anything he knows though, he goes straight to Hermione with it. And yes, I bloody well get it, Hermione's a fucking genius at everything and Harry would probably be dead a dozen times over without her, but I'm not stupid either. I have ideas, I know things that Hermione doesn't, but it never seems to matter. It wasn't really about her, the same could be said about my idiot brother, and unlike Hermione, Ron is hardly a genius, but he still gets to know everything while I'm just..." Ginny shook her head. "He will always trust them above anyone else and… I couldn't take it anymore."

Olivia was nodding thoughtfully letting Ginny spill her feelings. Olivia had a way of getting to the real heart of a matter better than most people and Ginny was relieved to have someone really talk to her, instead of automatically praising or condemning her.

"So…at the risk of being a horrible gossip, what did Harry do when he caught the both of you last night?"

Ginny frowned. "Nothing."

Olivia quirked an eyebrow at that statement, "nothing?"

"I mean that he stood there, shocked, while my brother was screaming at us and he looked at me, told me that he had been looking for me because he wanted to talk about something and then he said, 'never mind.'"

Olivia let out a low whistle, "wow. Did he mean 'never mind what he was going to tell you' or 'never mind your entire relationship'?"

Ginny shook her head and got up to leave the Hall, "honestly I have no idea. According to Ron, who's still furious with me by the way, Harry never came back to the dorm last night. And he hasn't been there all day. I don't even know where he's been."

Olivia shook her head, "Merlin, I never really pictured Harry as the type to hide himself away like that. He always seemed more the 'charge straight into the problem' sort."

Ginny bit her lip, for the first time slightly worried by his reaction instead of frustrated. "Usually he is. I expected him to be really angry, and I know that you've never seen Harry properly angry but its…well let's just say that if Harry really is the only one that can get rid of You-Know-Who like everyone is saying, if you've seen him angry than you would understand why."

Olivia chuckled slightly, "well at least we know you were sorted into the right House- only a Gryffindor would make someone that dangerous angry at them on purpose."

Ginny pursed her lips, that wasn't what she had done... not really. Well perhaps. She had wanted to get a reaction but stated so bluntly it sounded so much more manipulative than she had meant it at the time. She had just been so angry and Neville had been there... and the more she thought about it the more reasoning felt selfish and her stomach clenched once more in discomfort.

They had reached the Portrait Hole and after muttering the newest password "Cassiopia" they walked into the Common Room- and the heated fight that was going on inside.

"You weren't even there Harry! How can you ban all of us from the game when you didn't even see what happened?" Dean was shouting at his captain.

"You lot were the ones that told me what happened!" Harry fired back. "I came back last night and all of you," Harry spread his arms to gesture to the rest of the silent Common Room, "were throwing a _party_ and congratulating each other on winning a fight against the Slytherin Team. You all told me that they 'never even saw it coming', isn't that right, Seamus? Or 'now they know that we're not just going to sit around and wait for them to make the first move', isn't that right Jimmy? You all told me that you fired the first curses so don't go back now and tell me that I don't know what happened."

"We told that to you as our _friend_ Harry, not so that you could turn around and use it against us," Seamus argued.

Harry released a lungful of air and hung his head for a moment before he spoke. His voice was calmer now, his words were quiet and Ginny could hear a tiredness in his tone that she couldn't recall ever hearing before. "I am your friend Seamus, and yours Dean, Ron… I never did this because I was trying to get at any of you."

"So this isn't about me?" Neville asked roughly, his feet planted firmly apart as though steeling himself for a fight. He looked taller than he usually did, stronger somehow. The room seemed to pause as everyone in the Tower looked between the two Sixth Years.

Harry's face didn't so much as twitch as he looked at Neville, "you're not on the team Neville, this had nothing to do with you," his voice was level and if one didn't know better you would think that Harry had no feeling towards the boy one way or the other. Former kindness and friendship was gone, anger and betrayal strangely absent. It was cold and lifeless and Ginny felt a chill run down her spine.

"You're not punishing Ginny and the rest of the team because of what happened last night?" Neville challenged, his voice just a bit louder than strictly necessary and Ginny realized that Neville wanted a crowd.

A muscle jumped in Harry's jaw and his left hand trembled just barely before it curled into a fist. "Do you really think this is the place to talk about this Nev?"

"I think if you're using your position as captain to get back at your girlfriend because she ditched you then the rest of Gryffindor should know about it, yeah."

Harry's eyes shifted to Ginny for a moment and Ginny felt frozen in place. She didn't know why she hadn't said something yet. The last thing she wanted was her dirty laundry aired out in front everyone but she couldn't help but wonder how Harry would react.

"Did Ginny tell you that we were done before…before last night?" Harry asked and there seemed to be a kind of desperation in the question. He was watching Neville closely, a boy that had once been a friend and trying to see if there was anything of that friendship left. Ginny found that she was hurt to see that Harry seemed to be almost hoping that she had masterminded this betrayal single handedly. That he seemed to think so poorly of her.

"Ginny told me that you don't trust her, and that you don't give a damn about anything but proving that you're the only one that can stop Voldemort. It's not exactly a secret though, is it Harry? I used to think that you did all the things you did because you felt like it was the right thing but that's only part of it, isn't it? You like feeling like people need you. You like being the person that everyone depends on."

"That's enough Neville!" Hermione called out, her face furious.

"No Hermione," Harry cut her off roughly, his face hard and eyes a dark green with emotion, "I'd rather hear this, so what is this really all about Neville? Because I thought that we were friends."

"No you thought I was your sidekick. Stupid, fat Neville who would always be there whenever you felt like giving him a chance. Well this year I got sick of being the afterthought Harry! What do you think of that? I was sick and tired of just waiting around for you to need me. Because the truth is Harry- you're not that special, that prophesy might not have even been you in the first place!"

The Common Room was tense and silent, people were staring that the once shy and timid Neville Longbottom standing up against a boy that had once defended him against bullies like Malfoy. There was a general hum of confusion over Neville's words but Harry's face had lost color, he was standing stock still and his expression had shifted to something businesslike and distant. "We are not doing _this_ here Neville, you understand me. Not here. You want to talk about Quidditch- fine. But let's leave the rest out of it."

Neville gave a stiff, jerking nod, but his expression was clear- the conversation was far from over and Ginny felt her temper rise once again. More secrets. More things that she wasn't to know about, this time from Neville too.

"As for the rest of it," Harry sighed, he looked tired and Ginny caught him giving a brief, longing glance to the boy's dorm where Harry clearly wanted to escape from the crowd of people. "The game ban is not about my…personal problems. I did it because… we're supposed to better than them, aren't we?"

"So we're just supposed to sit back and wait for them to attack us? Harry you were banned LAST YEAR for punching Malfoy, you should know better than anyone what they can be like," Dean argued.

"And Harry was banned for it," Ron said suddenly, surprising everyone. "He was punished for punching Malfoy after he made fun of Harry's mum. His _mum._ If the rest of you can't understand why Harry would take that personally than… I can't help you, but Harry was provoked and got banned for the rest of year. We thought it would be a laugh to get them before they got us for a change. Harry's right to be pissed at us and if the rest of you want to give him a hard time about it…then you better be prepared to give me a hard time as well."

Harry was looking at Ron in disbelief, clearly stunned that his best friend was not holding the ban against him. "Er…thanks Ron." Ginny shot Ron a narrowed eyed glare, she- at least- knew that this was product of convenient timing more than anything else. Ron was pissed at Hermione and furious and her and Neville- Harry was the last of the people that he was close to and after last night he making a statement about whose side he was taking. Not hers.

The crowd seemed to break up after that with the exception of Cormac McLaggen who seemed to sense an opportunity. "Hey Harry…so this means the Keeper position is open right? When do practices start up again?"

Harry's face flushed with a deep purplish-red and Ginny did not think she had ever seen his eyes darken the way they did in that moment. His face contorted instantly from tired and a bit defensive to truly angry. "McLaggen I will put you on the team over my dead body!" he said in what resembled more of a hiss than actual words.

This was met with surprised murmurs. It had been no secret in Gryffindor Tower that Harry had been accused of favoritism in choosing Ron over McLaggen when they had both done well in the trial and now to refuse the offer of the best possible replacement for a team that desperately needed players was too strange for many of them to believe.

"I deserve that spot Potter! You cheated me out of it once already, if you don't put me on now I'll go to McGonagall and tell her you're refusing to put me on for no reason!"

Harry stomped over to McLaggen, getting his finger his face threateningly. Ironically enough, considering the reason for the argument, Harry seemed to be using effort to restrain himself from hitting the larger boy in the face. "How you could possibly think I would _ever_ let you on my team after…. After what you did!"

"Harry!" Hermione called out, her voice was higher than usual. In fact she didn't sound like herself at all, instead she sounded desperate and scared.

Harry flinched but his expression did not soften, although his voice did. It was low and threatening and filled with a malice that stiffened the hairs on the back of Ginny's neck. It reminded her of another voice, a voice from her nightmares and she shivered in tormented memory. This was a side of Harry that she had never seen and it quite frankly frightened her. "If you want to go to McGonagall you be my guest MacLaggen but if you do, I will be sure to tell her _exactly_ why I will never put you on my team and we'll just see who she sides with, shall we?"

McLaggen looked stricken at the words, his face shooting between Harry and Hermione and there was a furrow in his brow as though he was trying to figure out exactly what was going on. Harry moved aside and looked as though he was about to head up the stairs but instead he caught Ginny's eye. "Uh…Ginny do you mind if we…can we talk? Alone I mean," he added quickly.

Ginny nodded and nodded in the direction of the door. Despite the eventfulness of the dinner and aftermath, which had made the night seem longer than it was, it was still early and they still had quite a while until curfew. They headed out of the portrait hole and Harry followed her silently down the corridor, he seemed to be in no hurry to start a conversation with her and Ginny felt her anxiety level rise. She hadn't realized she was this nervous about speaking with him again until this moment. After a couple of minutes they found an empty classroom and went inside, Harry locked the door behind them before seeing her surprised expression, he suddenly stepped aside as though burned, "sorry…I just really didn't want another crowd…er, I can unlock it if you feel uncomfortable."

Ginny blinked in surprise, "I didn't think that you had lured me here to kill me Harry," she teased but Harry was not in the mood for her humor. He looked at her stone-faced, no trace of anger or hurt visible before finally speaking softly, "Gin… what happened?"

"I think you know what happened Harry," Ginny said tersely, hating the fact that Harry was standing there so calmly, fully in control while she felt so stressed and anxious that her stomach was rolling with discomfort. She felt jumpy, anxious from the guilt she supposed, or perhaps it was just that things were so unsure between the two of them. Did he hate her now? Was it worse than that? Was he simply indifferent?

Harry nodded his expression still hard to read, "yeah I guess I do," he answered tightly, "but that's not what I meant. I… I trusted you Ginny. I thought… I mean I know that you were upset about the fight that we had but… was that the first time?" he asked suddenly.

"With Neville?"

"With…" he blinked at the question and then winced as he seemed to consider this for first time, "with anyone…"

She scowled at him, "so now you think I'm just this slut that goes around sleeping with anyone that will have her? Nice Harry."

"Don't turn this around on me!" he yelled out, finally sounding angry for the first time. "I find you in bed with a guy that I thought was a friend of mine, you don't get to be mad at me if _you_ feel like a slut."

"I never said-"

"Sometimes we worry most about what we think about ourselves Gin," Harry said coldly before taking a deep breath and visibly calming his own temper. "I just needed to know," he explained quietly and Ginny felt her own anger at the accusation ebb as well, replaced quickly by that stubborn feeling of guilt.

"That was my first time with anyone," Ginny confirmed quietly.

Harry gave a businesslike nod as though confirming facts. "Then…why? I know that we had a row and that you were angry with me but… I don't understand Ginny. Was it get back at me or something?"

Ginny cringed because when stated baldly like that it seemed to be such a petty, vicious thing to do, and it hurt all the more because she knew that in truth….that was exactly what she had done. "I… I don't know if you can understand how you make me feel Harry," she said defensively. "The secrets that you keep…"

"I thought that you understood when we got together that there were things that I couldn't tell you."

"But you tell Ron and Hermione just about everything! Why them and not me? Do you not trust me?"

"Are you honestly asking me that _now_?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"I meant before," she answered coldly. "Harry… I was angry and I was upset and Neville… he trusts me. He looks at what I can do and he respect me for it. With you… you seem to think of me as that eleven year old damsel in distress that you get to rescue because she's too stupid to save herself. I'm not that little girl anymore Harry, and I... I don't think I can be with someone who sees me as her, or…I dunno, maybe you just want me to be her."

Harry looked at her, clearly stunned, "you think I want to be with you because I want to save you? That I see you as weak?"

"Are you sure that you don't, Harry? We both know that you like saving people, isn't that what Hermione tells you? That you have a _saving-people-thing_?"

"I'm not…" He started angrily.

"I'm not saying that you like to play the hero Harry. I know you don't do it for the fame or the attention but I think… I think that you like the feeling that keeping someone that you care about safe gives you. And that's a great thing Harry, but I don't want to be the damsel in your story. I don't need anyone to save me."

"I never thought I would have to save you Gin, I wasn't with you for that. That wasn't it at all."

"Then what was it Harry? What did you see in me that made you want to snog me and be your girlfriend but wasn't good enough for you to confide in."

Harry appeared utterly taken aback by the direction the conversation had taken and Ginny knew, a bit regretfully, that he had never thought about it in those terms. Harry was not a cruel person, nor was he a sexist man. She knew from playing Quidditch that he always respected what women could do, but she also knew that Harry had darker issues that he liked to pretend didn't exist. Even as she spoke things started to fall into place for Ginny for the first time. The need Harry had to protect the people around him because of the people he had lost in the past. The need to protect others because it seemed to be his only purpose in the world.

"I guess…. I guess I wanted someone…something in my life that was…separate," he groaned and ran a hand through his hair, turning away from her for a minute before collecting his thoughts and turning back around. "Gin…I know that you hate what I don't tell you about the war and I understand that and… I was trying to figure out why I never told you more when I had the chance. It never had to do with the fact that I didn't trust you…or that I…I didn't care about you," he added, looking away, his cheeks flushing uncomfortably. "It just, well every day, every _part_ of my day, I have to think about the war. About Voldemort. I think about it when I'm with Dumbledore, when I'm at the Ministry, when I'm doing my homework. And when everyone else is thinking about whether or not whatever lesson we're doing in class that day will turn up on the NEWTs, I'm wondering if Color Charms might be useful in a battle, or… some other way to stop him. And even with Ron and Hermione, it's _always there_. But with you… it was nice to spend an hour not having to think about it. To have _one_ part of my life that wasn't…" Harry shrugged, unable to articulate the rest.

Ginny felt a bit stunned, she had never thought about it in that light before and looking at his miserable expression she could see that Harry had enjoyed a small respite from the worry and anxiety and she had a flash of guilt for wanting to deprive him of that, before it was quickly stifled by her own anger and disappointment.

"But that's not what a relationship is Harry! You don't just… put people in neat little boxes and use them when they're convenient-"

"I didn't…"

"Really?" She asked cutting him off scathingly, "because I think that's exactly what you like to do. You wanted to use me as a good time but I _confided_ in you Harry. I told you things that I never told anyone else but you never did that to me. "

"I did too!" Harry objected loudly. "I told you about how worried I was about the vampires or about working things out with the Ministry."

"That's not enough! You told me things that you would tell anyone."

Harry's face closed off but his eyes were glinting with anger, "if you think that, then you don't know anything about me at all. You and I are different Ginny, I liked that about us. I always liked that you can talk about things that scare you or that you would tell me all about your nightmares, but I don't process things the same way. Just because I didn't tell you every detail didn't mean that I wasn't telling you the truth."

Ginny shook her head, hating that Harry was justifying the petty morsels of information that he gave her. Couples were supposed to share everything, the way her parents did. Neville had opened up to her more the previous night than Harry ever had and that was what had sparked their intimacy.

"You…you like to close yourself off Harry, cut out anything you don't want to feel. Like the Dursleys!" she spat out and felt a pang of regret as Harry's face turned pale and his eyes widened.

"You're upset… you're mad about the Dursleys?" he choked out, clearly surprised.

"Of course I would be upset about them! Why wouldn't I be? But you never talk about it Harry. That's not healthy."

"And you told me that you didn't want to be another person getting in my face about it!" Harry yelled out.

"No one's been in your face recently, Harry," she reminded him curtly. "And I know you don't want to talk about it all the time but… you should have told me about them. I deserved to know."

"You _deserve_ …" Harry looked stunned by this.

"Yes! Why wouldn't you tell me?"

Harry's shock was melting into real fury. "Because I didn't want to talk about it Ginny! And I thought that you understood that." Harry shook his head and looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. "The Dursleys didn't beat _you,_ Ginny. They didn't lock you up or tear up the Mother's Day card that you made for your Aunt when they were making them at primary school. You weren't the one that they called a burden or was told that you were freak and an abomination on their family. That didn't happen to you, so don't sit there and tell me what _you_ deserve. You wanted to know why I was with you, Ginny? Because I thought I had found someone that had _finally_ thought about what _I_ deserve. There was only one other person in my life that ever gave a damn about me and that was Sirius, and he's gone. My whole life I was told that I didn't _deserve_ the food the Dursleys gave me or the roof they put over my head. I was told that I didn't _deserve_ for anyone to care about me. But… Sirius cared about me. And I thought that you did too." He was breathing slightly heavy and the look of calm that he had been striving for the whole time had been utterly shattered.

Ginny felt stunned. "Oh…Harry," she started.

"Don't." Harry said harshly. "I don't talk about the Dursleys because I don't need to talk about the Dursleys. I dealt with the fact a long time ago that we are never going to get on. What they do… it's on them. _I_ shouldn't have to feel bad about it. _I_ shouldn't have explain over and over again that what they did to me was wrong. _I_ shouldn't be punished for the rest of my life because of something I couldn't help when I was a kid!"

"I'm sorry Harry."

"I honestly thought that you were the only person that didn't see me as…as damaged goods-"

"I never said-"

"You just did Ginny. I had some bad things happen to me and sometimes… sometimes yeah, that can be hard for me to deal with…" Harry let out a grunt of frustration and sat down in the chair. "I deal with things differently, I guess Ginny. It helps me to think about the good things in my life that I have now. It helps me to know that I moved on- that's what helps me. I know a lot of people, probably most people I won't deny that- need to talk about things. But there are other ways to face your problems. I don't see why enjoying myself is considered denial and I don't see why people should look at me like _I'm_ the messed up one because my uncle did things I couldn't control."

Ginny felt stupid and horrified. She had been so caught up in what she thought that Harry needed or what she wanted that she had never stopped to think about what Harry had been telling her all along. "Harry…"

"Maybe this whole thing was a mistake," Harry muttered.

"What…"

He suddenly sounded tired but there was a sadness to his words, his eyes were bright and Ginny suspected that there was hint of tears in them, surprising her. She had never seen Harry cry in all the time that she had known him. "I thought you were someone that understood me Ginny. I thought… I dunno what I thought, but I do know that I thought I trusted you and that I was convinced that I wrong to keep things from you, but I still can't get past what you did. We should end this."

Ginny didn't know what to say. Her emotions were swirling around inside or her, one chaotic mess. She had been so angry with Harry. She had felt guilty for what she had done with Neville. Frustrated over the lack of information. There was a sense of relief that he was ending it nicely instead of swearing at her.

Ginny nodded, her throat to tight for words. Harry shot her a sad smile before turning and leaving. When the door closed him there was a cold sense of finality to it that Ginny wondered if she would remember with regret for the rest of her life.

 **Neville**

 _June 26th, 1995:_

Neville followed his grandmother through the rows of white headstones. He had been surprised when she had told him that they would be visiting his grandfather's grave the morning after his return home, as she was usually more concerned about seeing his parents at the hospital when he got back for the summer. But she had been in a strange mood ever since he had gotten off the train; quiet and unusually conscientious in asking questions about his year. She had prepared a meal of all of his favorite foods, which was not particularly surprising as she had done the same thing his first night back from Hogwarts every year, but this time she had not looked at him reproachfully as he took a second helping of the rhubarb custard, nor had she waved away his stories about his latest Herbology project by asking how he was doing in his 'real' classes. For the first time in his life, Neville felt unsure of what his grandmother was feeling about him and it left him feeling distinctly uneasy.

He had dressed well for the occasion, he had been taught a long time ago that whenever he left the house he was representing not only his grandmother but his absent parents as well and needed to put his best foot forward. This had been an extreme challenge when he had been young and clumsy, likely to smear food on his face and dirt on his robes from tripping. His posture had never seemed straight enough, his voice never loud nor commanding enough. Neville had dreaded every tea, luncheon or dinner guest they had ever had because he had been likely to embarrass his grandmother. This morning though, Grandmother had only nodded at him and told him that they shouldn't dawdle. _They_ shouldn't dawdle- not simply him keeping her from busy tasks. He wasn't positive that the simple word change was as deliberate as he took it to mean but it seemed to him that something had changed. Shifted.

And so he had followed her silently, waiting to see what these new and very welcome changes meant for him. After several, very well practiced minutes of walking to the right row, she finally stopped in front of an elegantly engraved stone, it was still new looking despite its 7 year age and shone out a bit brighter than some of the older stones that it neighbored.

"Here we are, hello Nathaniel, I've missed you so my love, but I wanted to be here when I said this. I felt that after everything... everything that the two of us both feared and hoped for, you deserved to hear this as well." Augusta Longbottom was a strong woman. Stubborn in nature and powerful in magic, she had proven herself a force to be reckoned with, even at a time when most women were little more than attractive accessories for their husbands. Neville had developed a healthy (well perhaps decidedly unhealthy) fear of the woman at a young age and had spent most of his life trying to ensure that he never crossed her.

And yet in spite of his fear, Neville's dearest wish was to gain his grandmother's approval. To show the woman that had raised and cared for him that he had not been a wasted effort, and that even if he could never replace her beloved son, who had always managed to meet her every expectation while Neville had floundered and failed, he was still good enough. Because she had cared for him. Despite his man limitations and problems, in spite of the fact that as an older woman she had never wanted to raise more children, she had loved and in her way supported everything that he had ever done.

On the night of his Sorting, Neville had been sure that he belonged in Hufflepuff. He had been terrified of everything- at the thought of leaving home, at the thought of disappointing his grandmother, at the thought that his magic wouldn't be good or strong enough, at the thought of having to make friends, at the thought that he _wouldn't_ make any friends. The idea of being in Gryffindor, where his brave and selfless parents had been, had seemed impossible to him. However, looking back five years later Neville thought perhaps it was that desire to please a woman that he feared so greatly that had given him the skills that Gryffindor required.

Augusta was an exacting person that demanded the very best from those around her and Neville had learned quickly that he would never be able to fully please her. In fact it was around Neville's ninth birthday that he had realized that he was a decided disappointment for a woman that had raised a perfect son only to be stuck raising a grandson that represented everything she considered weak in a wizard.

He had developed magic late and it had come sparingly and weak. It had not helped that his fears had come long before his worries about Hogwarts, as a child he had been afraid of nearly everything: heights, snakes, the dark. He was clumsy and forgetful. He was chubby and too shy to make friends with any of the pureblood children that his grandmother introduced him to at social dinners. And at each of these small failures, Grandmother had been there, lips slightly pursed, head shaking slightly, a sigh full of exasperation at him. And yet... she had always given him a hug and told him that it would be alright. She had loved him and that was best and worst of it. Best because he cared about her in return and worst because he knew that if she had even been indifferent towards him he would have been much happier at being who he was. Her devotion to him both pushed him to succeed and made him terrified of failure- two things that might have lent itself to the same result but with very different results on a person.

There were two memories of his childhood that Neville knew that he would remember until his dying day. The first had been the bright smile that had been filled with rare pride that she had bestowed on him when he had finally done magic. There had been whispers in the family for quite a while that he didn't have magic but the sense of relief when he had finally done it was palpable to them all. But not very long after he had done it, she had taken him aside and warned him that while it was good that magic had saved his life, it did not necessarily mean that he would have enough to be a fully qualified wizard. Which led directly to the second memory, the look of surprise on Grandmother's face when he had received his Hogwarts letter. Neville had known that not long after his 10th birthday she had started to quietly make other arrangements for him because she had felt sure that he would considered a registered squib and the pure shock she had displayed that he had been accepted into the prestigious Hogwarts had struck him like a punch to the stomach. It would be far from the last time that he would encounter that feeling from her.

Though Neville had done far better in his classes than his Grandmother had ever seemed to have expected, it had never seemed to be quite enough to satisfy her either. When he brought home a top Herbology grade she had congratulated him, but then lamented that it wasn't a wand class. When he brought up his Exceeding Expectations in Charms she had smiled and told him ' _your father was always very good at Charms. Top of his class, but then Charms was always one of the easier classes to master, isn't it?_ '

Neville's whole life had been a string of 'almost compliments', of comparisons to a ghost of a father that he would never be able to surpass in the eyes of his grandmother even if he had been gifted, which it was clear that he was not. Nevertheless Neville persisted. He tried and failed and tried again to do his best and though he wanted to do well for his own sake, it was always with the childish wish that his grandmother would one day see him as an accomplished wizard. And so when Augusta turned to him in the graveyard with her eyes shining with pride, it was the first time that Neville had fully received the attention and credit from her that he had craved for so long.

"Nathaniel, you should be so proud of our grandson. He fought the Death Eaters like a real man. He even went up against that scourge of humanity, Bellatrix Lestrange. Neville has finally become the wizard we were so sure he would be."

Neville's breath caught and he heart beat rapidly with excitement. He could hardly believe that he was hearing this. "Th-thank you."

"Nonsense, don't thank me for stating simple facts," she huffed impatiently before sighing and giving him sad look. "Neville I know I've always been rather hard on you and I know that in spite of everything... you've always tried your best."

Neville looked down, this was more along the lines of what he was used to hearing. He tried hard but he just lacked talent, he had done well this term, but not as well as Frank Longbottom had done at that age.

"And I think it's finally time to tell you part of the reason why I always expected the best from you," she admitted with a sigh.

Neville looked up in surprise, "I know Grandmother, my father and my mother were always powerful-"

"They were," she agreed, "two of the best Aurors out there, but that's only part of it. Darling, when you were in the Hall of Prophesy, did you get a clear look at the label on the orb you were after?"

Neville blinked, unsure what this had to do with anything. "Erm...not really, it was Ron and Harry that really looked. I know that it had Harry's name on it."

Augusta nodded, "I imagine that Albus never bothered to explain to any of you the significance of this prophesy?" She did not wait for an answer, knowing that they would not have been told. "About 16 years ago there was a prophesy made about a boy who would destroy the Dark Lord. If you had seen the label you would have seen that it lists Harry Potter but it also showed a question mark, I know because I have been there to see it for myself... because there used to quite a debate as to who the boy was that would have the power to destroy Lord Voldemort. One option of course, was Harry Potter but the other boy, was _you_ Neville."

It was the first time in his life that Neville had ever heard his grandmother use You-Know-Who's name and it was almost more shocking then the news she had just delivered. Until his mind caught up with the implications of what she had just said, "What?" He sputtered.

His grandmother swallowed and looked at him solemnly. "It's true. I was never told all of the details but Frank told me before they went into hiding that there had been a prophesy about a boy being born at the end of July that would defeat Voldemort for good."

"Harry and I are the only ones born at the end of July?"

Augusta shook her head, there was more. Your parents, both of them had fought against the Dark Lord and that was part of it as well. It was either going to be you, or the Potter boy... and your grandfather and I were certain it would be you."

Neville shook his head in disbelief, "but... why me?"

Augusta shrugged, looking defensive, "you're the pureblood. Frank and Alice were both Aurors, very accomplished ones, and had quite frankly done more for the war then Lily and James. I don't mean to disparage what they did, they were brave and they gave everything they had but they were very young and... sometimes foolish with their choices. Frank and Alice..." she shook her head as though to say she could not put into proper words exactly why her son and his wife were more deserving of their son being prophesized one. "You seemed the better fit when we looked at things objectively but then the Potter boy did... whatever it was he did... and the matter was considered closed. But... He-Shall-Not-Be-Named was _not_ destroyed, only damaged which means that there is more to the prophesy than we knew."

Neville stared, "Grandmother... you can't possibly think that it's me...me over _Harry_? Everything I even did at the Ministry is because I learned it from him. Harry's gone up against You-Know-Who five times! I...I could never do that."

"Are you sure about that?"

Neville blinked, before shaking his head in disbelief, "Grandmother... even if You-Know-Who wasn't fully destroyed that day, it was _Harry_ that damaged him for 13 years. As a baby! If he did something like that as a baby, don't you think he's more likely than me to be the one to destroy him for good?"

Augusta gave him a stern look, "prophesies are quite ironic in the fact that they are highly unpredictable. The Potter boy is the obvious choice but I happen to know that no one knows the full content of the prophesy, and the fact that you were both standing at the Ministry, both fighting bravely... it means something my boy. I know it does!"

Neville was still shaking his head but he was caught by the look in his grandmother's eyes, pride and confidence in him, she had never looked at him so earnestly before and in that moment all of his wishes had come true. How could he take that feeling away from her, away from himself.

"Neville, you have fought against tremendous odds in your own right. Your power...it has grown so much- and that only happened after the return of Voldemort."

He wanted to believe what she was saying, wanted to believe that he had finally become worthy of her praise but doubt swirled around him. He had improved greatly that year in all of his classes but most of that had come from the D.A. The classes that Harry had taught them. But he couldn't say that to his grandmother, he couldn't tell her that the reason he had finally started to show actual promise as a wizard was due to the help of another boy his own age. "But...but he returned after taking _Harry's_ blood!"

Augusta's eyes gleamed, " _exactly_. I saw that article too and that was my first clue, the first time I thought that there was more to the prophesy than anyone first thought. Blood rituals are considered dark magic for many reasons- most of them obvious but some are more unpredictable. I admit that I know little about them but I do know one thing, blood rituals are used to form bonds. It means that the Dark Lord was smart enough (or perhaps arrogant enough) to link himself to the person who was most likely to kill him. However, all of that has changed now Neville. Look how much you've come into yourself this past year, how your magic has grown. It all happened after His return, when it comes to magic I don't believe in coincidences and if there is one thing that I do know, its that magic is always searching for balance. You-Know-Who was weak... perhaps that was why you were as well. Perhaps your magic couldn't fully manifest until it had something to target itself against."

"Is that even possible?" Neville asked, hope blossoming in his chest. It seemed crazy to think about, he had never before heard of someone's magic being stunted merely because they were supposed to use it against another person that wasn't ready for the fight but... this would explain everything. Why he struggled so much in the classes his parents had always done well in. Why he was suddenly so much better. It sounded insane... and yet he couldn't ignore the fact that it also made so much sense to him.

Grandmother was nodding at him with encouragement, "Prophesies are rarely what we think they are, and I don't want you limiting yourself because of decisions made by Albus Dumbledore."

Neville blinked and let out a slow breath, too overwhelmed to come up with more counter arguments, though he knew they must exist. "No one was going to say anything about this to me, were they?"

Augusta shook her head, "probably not. I will say this, I have a great deal of respect and admiration for Dumbledore, both for his intelligence and for all that he has done for our world. But he is not a perfect man and I know that if there is one thing that he suffers from, it is tunnel vision. He has decided that Harry Potter is the only one that is going to win this war, but you are a strong wizard Neville. Stronger than I have ever given you credit for and if there is one thing that you have shown it's that no one hands you destiny. It is something that you have to work and scrape for, something you have to fight for with every ounce of strength that you possess. Do not sell yourself short my dear, be the man that I always knew that you could be."

Neville was wide eyed as he asked, "how?"

"That my darling grandson is what we are going to work on this summer and when you go back to Hogwarts, everyone is finally going to recognize that you are no longer that shy little boy that you used to be. You have grown into a fighter and you will not fail me, I know that."

That day in the cemetery changed Neville's relationship with his grandmother forever and right alongside it his perspective on the whole world shifted as well. It would not be for several months that he would to realize that it was for the worse.

 **Present Day: Jan 11th, 1996**

Neville had been too anxious to sleep. For the second night in a row Harry had not returned to the dormitory for the night. Neville had stayed in the Common Room until well after curfew and had seen Ginny return with red-rimmed eyes and looking rather pale but Harry had not. Ron had glared at him as they had gotten themselves to bed, yanking the bed-curtains closed stronger than necessary. Generally speaking Harry was usually the only one that bothered consistently closing them all the time... at least for the full night... because he suffered from nightmares and tried to keep the sound as muffled as possible. The curtains all had light silencing charms in them, nothing that blocked out Harry's horrified screams or moans of pain when he was getting one of his 'visions' but Neville suspected that they blocked out far more restless night than any of them truly knew.

When Neville had come back to school after over two months of hard training and studying he had been anticipating a change. He had been waiting for his classmates to sit up and take notice of the fact that he was no longer at the bottom of the class, but instead the top of their Defense class. He had lost the last of his 'baby fat' and was looking much better this year, he was picking up spells faster than ever before and he was suddenly taking up the role of a leader instead of allowing himself to be thrust into the background. But the year had gone about remarkably unchanged.

The girls mostly ignored him and the boys still tended to laugh and jeer at him just as they always had. But Neville could have handled all of that. It wasn't important that he wasn't popular or that he wasn't seen as a powerful wizard. What bothered him was Harry. The feeling had come on slowly and when he had finally acknowledged even to himself his anger at the other boy, he had been surprised by his changed feelings. In the past he had always looked up to, even admired Harry. But the more that he thought about it the more ridiculous those feelings were. Why was Neville looking up to someone his own age? Why did he look so hard for the other boy's approval when Harry consistently looked at him as nothing more than a clumsy sidekick?

Neville knew perfectly well that not only would Harry never have purposely sought him out for their little adventure to the Department of Mysteries but that he had actively not wanted him to go. He had seen the other boy's face when the five of them had insisted on coming with him, that look that clearly showed that he would have taken Ron and Hermione but the other three were nothing more than an annoying inconvenience. Tag-alongs that Harry would have to wind up protecting.

But neither Harry nor Ron were top of the class either. What was it that made them so special? Neither of them had even received the training that his grandmother had insured that he had gotten that summer and yet it was Harry that the Headmaster turned to with private meetings and Harry that the Ministry made deals with to have a 16 year old negotiate for them. It wasn't that Neville didn't respect what Harry did. Or even that he was convinced, as Grandmother seemed to be, that he was the actual Chosen One- but he resented the fact that the possibility wasn't even considered. Clumsy, awkward, shy, nearly-a-squib Neville couldn't possibly be anyone important so why even entertain the possibility?

Neville knew that he wasn't like Harry- things didn't come easily for him. He wasn't the kind of person that made the Quidditch team after his very first time on a broom, or the person that stumbled upon school mysteries that needed to be solved. But he worked. He struggled and he pushed and he knew what it meant to give everything towards something because in the past that was what it had taken for him to succeed at everything. Over the past few months Neville desire to be seen by others had grown more powerful, and only more so after the Christmas Hols when his grandmother had asked about his progress. It had not been enough. He had not made the difference that she had wanted him to make and though his grades had gone up, everything else was the same.

As he laid in bed thinking over everything he knew that the Neville of a year ago would have been absolutely horrified by his actions. Sleeping with a girl that he didn't truly care about simply to prove a point, going out of his way to hurt Harry when the other boy had done nothing to him. But again that was the real problem, wasn't it? Harry had done nothing to him or for him.

The sun came up slowly and Neville groaned as the light hurt his head, tiredness pressing on his mind like a physical weight. Ron was up surprisingly early and taking great pains to dress in the most aggressive manner Neville could imagine. He slammed drawers, threw robes, banged his hairbrush down on the bathroom vanity. He even managed to spit his toothpaste with impressive vigor.

Ron had said his piece the day before and had since then been giving both Ginny and Neville the loudest silent treatment in known history. Ron stormed out before the rest of them and the room fell into a relieved silence. "Ron will come around," Seamus said after a minute. "You weren't doing anything Ginny didn't want to do and Ron doesn't run her life."

Dean chuckled, "spoken like a bloke with no sisters! Trust me, Ron is crazy protective over Ginny, I learned that at the end of last year and the beginning of this one after I broke up with her in a letter. But yeah...you know Ron, he gets mad, blows up, and then usually it blows over. It definitely helped your case when Harry turned traitor against the entire House last night by basically forfeiting the Quidditch match," he added darkly.

"I wouldn't be so sure," Neville said thoughtfully, "he certainly seemed to stick up for him last night."

Seamus shook his head, anger covering his features, "Ron will come around once he cools down. You know how he can get but he can't possibly think that running off half the team because of a stupid fight is a good idea. Harry made a big mistake and he's gonna regret it."

Dean nodded, "seems like Harry's head has been getting a bit big lately. Getting to skip classes and leave school to help the Ministry, even writing up his own press releases this year. Seems to me that he should remember that he's still a student and that means that House loyalty comes first."

Just as they were making their way out of the door, Harry came back to change clothes for class. "Think you can just sneak back in here after what you did last night?" Dean asked Harry angrily. "I notice that you didn't want to face everyone last night. Too scared to own it?"

Harry gave Dean a cool look, no it was _cold_. While Neville had been alternating anticipating and fearing finally facing an angry Harry that was likely to either punch or curse him, instead he was met with an expressionless mask- and it was terrifying.

'"I have no problem owning anything I've done, can you lot say the same? You got what you deserved, don't cry to me just because you can't take it."

"You really think a lot of yourself, don't you? Think you're better than us?"

"Do I think I'm better than attacking Second and Third Years and then being proud of myself that they weren't able to defend themselves?" Harry added, dripping sarcasm. "I'd like to think so."

"I'd be careful Harry, you might be allowed to go to all those big meetings for the Ministry and everyone might be treating you like you're special but Gryffindor is pissed and your Golden Boy status isn't going to protect you," Seamus explained.

"I would think you have enough enemies Harry."

"Then let me tell you what I told the Ministry when they practically said the same thing to me months ago, I can handle myself just fine. I've had the practice, thanks to you lot."

"Us?" Neville asked in disbelief.

"Right because of all the times the three of you have really stuck by me when things got tough. I really couldn't have made it without your help. You really think that you have the right to stand here and try to intimidate me by saying that _Gryffindor_ is going to hate me? Wouldn't be the first time and unlike some of you... I rather be brave enough to do the right thing then worry about looking good doing it." Harry had pulled his robes up and crossed to the bathroom to change. Neville had noted years ago that of the five of them, Harry had always been the most modest about changing in front of others. He had loosened up some over the years but recent events had evidently made him return to former habits.

Harry changed quickly and grabbed his still full schoolbag from the day before and left silently.

The Great Hall was filled with a strange sort of tension. The Slytherins were cocky and smug, the Hufflepuffs were excited and the Ravenclaws and especially the Gryffindors were furious. Harry took his seat at the end of the table with a subdued looking Hermione. All it took was Harry to take his first bite of eggs for his hair and robes to turn a bright green with silver letters that spelled out the word traitor.

The Hall jeered and laughed but Harry continued to eat his breakfast, shaking his head slightly at something Hermione said to him.

Neville finished eating quickly before spotting Ginny leaving and running to catch up in the hallway. Everyone else was still at breakfast and they had a moment to themselves. "Gin!"

Ginny stopped and glared at him a moment, "something you wanted?"

Neville frowned at her, "I was going to ask if you've been alright but I see you've already leaped to blaming me for all this."

Ginny sighed, "sorry Neville you're right, we did this together. I just... I don't know what we were thinking. I was just..." she shook her head as though to clear it. "I'm fine. I was expecting to be the school pariah for weeks but leave it Harry to somehow obliterate the gossip of the year inside of a single day," she said ruefully. Her expression become subdued and guilty as she asked, "How was he when he got back to the dorm last night?"

Neville looked at her with surprise, "he never came back last night." Ginny appeared startled by this revelation. "Oh... he left before I did, I just assumed... I wonder where he's been going."

Neville shrugged as though unconcerned but in spite of his determination to remain on the defensive, guilt clawed at him. He had not planned on taking things so far but as time had gone on the confrontation that he had expecting with Harry had never happened, because apparently he wasn't even on Harry's list of priorities. It was as though Neville wasn't even a consideration to him at all and when he had seen firsthand that he was the not the only one to be casually thrown aside for more important things, he had found that he and Ginny had a means of comforting one another.

"Well if it isn't Hogwarts very own star-crossed lovers," a jeering voice called from behind them, and sure enough the mocking face a Draco Malfoy was there, cruel smile in place. Malfoy had been decidedly quiet this year, even when the two of them had been working together on their projects. They had started out to a rough start because Malfoy had taken the instant stand that Neville had nothing to contribute and he should be in charge of all of their decisions, but Neville had refused to back down and after several arguments, the Slytherin had eventually conceded to a reluctant partnership. After that Malfoy had largely been quiet outside of their assigned work times, however, Neville had noticed that the other boy had started looking rather ill lately, as though stress had been wearing him down. "Is lovers the right term for two people that chose to fuck each other because they really wanted to fuck over someone else? Semantics so hard sometimes. Anyway I was just checking to see that you too were alright, that bed must have been awfully crowded what with Potter right there between you and all."

"Shove it Malfoy," Ginny snarled, her face a bright red, but Neville could see that she was more upset by the fact the words were unfortunately true.

Neville said nothing, unwilling to give his former school bully the satisfaction. He was not the same 11 year old boy that the Slytherin used to glue his legs together. "Anyway Longbottom, word to the wise. When choosing an enemy, try not to go after someone stronger than you. After all, why do you think I used to jinx _you_ in the hallways?"

"Noted Malfoy, thanks for the advice. I'm sure you have unmatched experience in creating enemies," Neville answered drily, his temper rising as his fists clenched together.

Malfoy's eyes glinted and smirked at them just as Harry came out of the Great Hall with a rather pale looking Hermione next to him. "You didn't really eat anything Hermione, just take the toast with you," he was saying.

"Harry... drop it, I'm not hungry," Hermione sighed in exasperation.

Both of them froze as they caught sight of the three of them and Harry's eyes narrowed in Neville's direction, no doubt thinking about the bombshell that Neville had dropped on him the night before. He had not set out to bring up the prophesy in front of everyone. He and his grandmother had both agreed that it was wisest not to broadcast any attention about it their way, but in the heat of the moment it had slipped out and Neville was strangely satisfied that he had at least gotten his long awaited reaction from Harry.

"Nice look Potter, you know you can always change tables if you like. Since you seem to be confused about your loyalty at all."

Harry raised an eyebrow in Malfoy's direction this time, his expression remaining unchanged as he said, "I know _exactly_ where my loyalties lie Malfoy, I suggest you figure out the same. Because trust me, truce or no truce you don't want to make the mistake of crossing me when it really matters," his eyes flicking with no subtly towards the Slytherin's left arm as Malfoy paled.

"We have to get to Potions Harry," Hermione interrupted quietly and Neville wondered if she was ill. She had been strangely quiet the last week or so and was looking pale and withdrawn- very unlike herself. Harry had also commented on the fact that she had apparently skipped breakfast. Harry glanced at her before nodding and put his arm around to the small of her back as he guided her past them. Harry and Ginny didn't so much as glance at one another.

Malfoy was flushed and embarrassed from his confrontation before he turned back to them. "Not sure why I care at all but on a serious note- if I were _you_ , I would not make Potter my enemy," he eyes were darker than usual and there was an almost...haunted quality to them. "I doubt either one of you have ever seen Potter in a fight- a real fight- and let me tell you... it is downright terrifying. I've been hit by you Longbottom and I've been hit by Potter and let me tell you the difference- you hit like you want to hurt someone, Potter hits like he's going to die. Like his entire life depends on winning in that moment and the very last thing he cares about is pain, or weakness, or consequences. With magic, without magic- Potter fights to win and I hope you know that you just took your biggest ally and turned him against you. So well done there." Malfoy walked away and Neville felt that familiar churn of guilt that he stubbornly pushed aside once more. It shouldn't matter. He didn't need Harry, what he needed was to prove himself against the strongest person in their year. No one would overlook him again.

HPHPHP

After dinner Neville went up to his room to get his books when he heard someone come in behind him and the door close. He looked up to see Harry locking the door behind them and turning with an expression that Neville had seen on the other boy's face many times in the past, just never fully directed at him before. It was the face that Harry had always reserved for Malfoy, Snape and Umbridge and though in the past Neville had always admired the strength that the look held, he had never before appreciated how intimidating it truly was.

His stomach fluttered nervously as Neville realized that he and Harry had never had a fight before and though he had felt the tension building for months he had not been prepared for the evitable confrontation to come out like this.

"I want to know what you know about the prophesy," Harry stated without preamble, his tone was firm and business like.

"Is that all that you want to know?" Neville asked, slightly mocking. He was pressing him, he knew it but he had felt dismissed for so long. All year he had waited for Harry to take notice of him, to ask for his help or to see him as an equal and instead he had forever been seen as faithful old Neville, content to wait until called upon.

Harry's expression didn't move as he asked, "is there something more important?"

"Did you know?" Neville finally asked, getting to business when it was clear that Harry would not talk about anything else. "All this time, did you know about it?"

Harry shook his head in irritation, "what do you think? If I had known about it, don't you think I would have gotten it from the Department of Mysteries sooner? Did you?"

"So you admit that the prophesy involves me as well?" Neville goaded.

Harry raised an eyebrow, "I know that it could have involved you," he admitted evenly. "Though I have no idea why you're bringing it up now."

"The prophesy was destroyed, no one knows what it really said but my Gran told me over the summer that it said that _one of us_ was going to be the one to destroy Voldemort and I find it interesting that no one even considered that it might still be me. You might have survived the Killing Curse but Voldemort is still out there. There's no way of knowing that you're really the one that the prophesy is about after all."

Harry's mouth opened slightly and he stared for a moment before he let out a dry laugh, "that's what this is all about? You think I've been trying to steal your thunder all this time? You want to be the one to go up to Voldemort challenge him to a duel and see who wins? Be my guest, Neville. Have at it!" he yelled.

Neville blinked, "you really are full of yourself, aren't you? You're so sure that it's you that it couldn't possibly be dumb, clumsy Neville. Maybe you haven't noticed but I've been doing better in Defense then you this year! Even better than you. I was at the Department of Mysteries too and both of us were still standing at the end."

"Yeah except for that slight problem where you couldn't even pronounce the curses correctly because your nose was broken and you managed to drop the prophesy but you're right- we were both the same. How was dueling Voldemort? Did you like it when he possessed you after marking you with the scar from the prophesy? Oh...right Neville, sorry you never heard the prophesy, you just got a chance to read a bunch of _Daily Prophet_ articles and you and your Gran came up with this great little fantasy where you get to save the day. Well don't let me stop you, you want to be the one to kill Voldemort I say the more the merrier."

"Don't lay this on us like we're the crazy ones to think it's about me. No one knows what the prophesy says other than the fact that it's about someone born at the end of July. No one even knows if it's just one person! Prophesies are unpredictable! All it says is that Voldemort is going to be destroyed and everyone just assumes it's the great Boy-Who-Lived, he did it once, so it must be him all over again."

"Dumbledore knows what it says!" Harry yelled. "It says that Voldemort himself will 'mark' him as his equal," Harry pulled back his bangs showing the still prominent scar on his head. "It never says that Voldemort will be destroyed- it says someone will have the power to do it, but that one of them is going to die."

Neville blinked in surprise at the revelation of the full prophesy, so much more grisly than the idea that victory was assured. His mouth slightly open, but he was speechless in the face of Harry's bitter laugh. "You know the funny part, I've felt guilty for months because when Dumbledore first told me about the prophesy and I heard that at first it could have been me or you, I wanted it to be you. I wanted someone else to have to fight against him, to worry about if they were going to die or worse what would happen to the world if they did die and Voldemort took over. I wanted it to be you and I felt terrible about that because I thought, who does that to their friend? Who wants their friend to suffer? But turns out that you want it? By all means Neville."

Neville swallowed. "You should have told me," he said numbly.

"Why?" Harry demanded. "Why did you need to know that it was almost your responsibility to kill the most powerful dark wizard in a century and that there's a better than likely chance that you would have died trying? I hate knowing about it myself but I _needed_ to know- you didn't."

"Is that why you've been so... full of yourself this year? Because you've been training to beat him?"

"Full of myself? When the hell was I full of myself? I didn't see you coming to ask me to hang out or play a game of chess. You never came over and asked if you could help me study because I spent week in the library trying to learn about the ICW and what the hell I was supposed to do there. In case you haven't noticed Neville, I've been a little busy this year and that doesn't make me think that I'm better than anyone but it does make me think that there are more important things going on than having to fix everyone's else bullshit. If you had a question about the prophesy then you should have asked me about it, if you want to fight against Voldemort you don't need my blessing to do it."

Neville swallowed, knowing that Harry was right. The whole year he had spent resenting Harry for the one that everyone turned to for the answers but he had been doing the same thing. Because Harry had always looked out for him. He had defended him against bullies, given him confidence that his own grandmother had failed to give him and the previous year he had taken it upon himself to singlehandedly stand up against the Ministry. He been waiting for Harry to fix a problem that he had been cowardly to even bring to the other boys attention and in that moment he knew that Malfoy had been right. He taken a great ally- a great friend- and ensured that he would never help him again.

Harry didn't wait for answer instead he turned towards the door as he said, "I have to go serve detention for the fight that you and Ginny started, glad to see that the real Chosen One is going after the real threats to the Wizarding World. Now I that know what your plan is I'll be sure to stay out of your way in the future when you're fighting against evil Second Years." Neville said nothing as Harry walked out, but it he didn't have long to brood on everything that was said- he also had detention from McGonagall.

 **A/N: I tried to get this out sooner but it's a busy time of year for me, work has been crazy. Thanks so much for everyone's thoughtful reviews they were excellent.**

 **For the record, my Neville is most definitely the most AU of the characters in this story and in truth I don't believe that Neville ever felt this way. However, I thought it would be interesting to see a twist on the idea of someone learning the prophesy, misinterpreting it and then fulfilling Dumbledore's fears of not being emotionally ready to handle it. As I've shown many times over in this story, I felt that Dumbledore screwed up by not telling Harry about the prophesy, at least after the Tri-Wizard, but that's mostly due to the fact that Dumbledore saw firsthand the kind of person Harry was. The circumstances of his life made him ready and Harry already knew that Voldemort wanted to kill him so it was better to know the reason why. Neville is a very different kind of character and why he probably would have handled the situation with a lot more grace, its not unusual for teens to misdirect anger or resentment. In this case the real resentment is for his grandmother and the way she always put him down but its aimed at Harry because he is sick of being outshone.**

 **I also think that one of the more interesting side characters that we don't see enough of is Augusta Longbottom. Neville is clearly intimidated by her and there's plenty of references to the fact that Neville's family engaged in some questionable activities before he showed signs of magic. And yet she is also a woman that battled her way out of ambush against Death Eaters because they underestimated her so she clearly has some power. Anyway, hope you liked it and I said this is my reasoning for Neville's strange attitude in the story- not really an excuse but one reviewer brought up the fact that they always felt some pity for Neville in Canon and even more so in this story and I feel the same :)**


	33. Friends? In Unexpected Places

**Chapter 33: Friends? In Unexpected Places**

Harry left the dorm even madder than he had been when he had arrived, and he had not thought that was even possible. It had been an extremely long day, with the exception of a strange respite in potions of all places, the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws had made it clear that he was persona non grata. After starting off his day decked out in green and silver, he had had his bag ripped open twice, his quills snapped mid-sentence, and in one of the more impressive moments of the day Harry's extensive knowledge of the castle had been rendered nearly impotent when someone had somehow gotten all of the staircases to conspire against him in taking him the most indirect routes possible to class.

But all of those minor annoyances paled in comparison to the talk that he had just had with Neville. The idea that Neville had apparently been stewing for months about wanting to complete the very prophesy that dominated- and ruined- Harry's very existence infuriated him. He expected that type of sentiment from someone like Malfoy who needed attention and glory to justify their own existence, or even Snape who was convinced that his own contribution to the war were more important than Harry's. But not Neville, Neville, who had always seemed to understand the burdens that Harry was under so much better than their other classmates. Neville, who knew firsthand what real sacrifice looked like in a war. It wasn't poetic or brave, it was painful and unavoidable. It wasn't over in a rush of adrenaline and a few days of tears and sorrow but reverberated over years. Wounds that never fully healed.

He arrived at the Transfiguration class second to last, only Neville was behind him and for the first time Harry had the uneasy feeling he used to get whenever he naively allowed Uncle Vernon to walk behind him. Harry had learned from an early age to never turn your back on a threat but he had never before thought of Neville as anything other than a friend. While he didn't think that the other boy was going to attack him, he had firmly decided against lowering his guard again.

The Quidditch team was accompanied by Seamus, Neville, two Fifth Years- Gregory Chopin and Allie Gordan and a Seventh Year- Trent Fellows who Harry happened to know was good friends with Cormac McLaggen, as though Harry needed more reasons to dislike him.

McGonagall was already in the room, accompanied surprisingly (or perhaps very predictably) by Snape. Both were wearing nearly identical frowns of disapproval, though Harry could see a hint of triumph in the Head of Slytherin's eyes and knew the older man was very much enjoying the fact that Gryffindor had been the first House to issue a formal apology in over 5 decades- and to Slytherin House no less.

"Let me start off by saying again that I was absolutely disgusted by your behavior," McGonagall began. "Godric Gryffindor chose students that exemplified qualities of nobility, chivalry and bravery- none of those qualities were used for the childish...brawl that you all engaged in two days ago, and don't look at me like that Sloper you know perfectly well that you did nothing to stop it. The only person in this room who has a valid excuse for not stopping the argument is Mr. Potter, who has not only taken admirable responsibility for _your_ actions but has now been forced to put up with your own childish retaliation tactics. Let me be clear, I am finished turning a blind eye to this behavior in my House. You no longer get free reign to bully and torment one another without serious repercussions. I should have put a stop to this behavior a long time ago and that is my own failing but this is a school and we must all learn to be better. You must learn to better people and I must learn how to make you see right from wrong when it clear that somehow there has seen to be a serious misstep."

Harry took in the lowered heads and flushed cheeks and knew that her words were having an impact. There was nothing worse to a Gryffindor than someone calling their very honor into question and McGonagall was not pulling any punches.

Snape took in their contrite expressions without a hint of sympathy. "Our Houses have a long history of disagreements and for a very long time it has been Slytherin House that has been blamed for its... unsavory tactics. Allow me a moment to savor the irony..." he smiled predatorily for a moment before his expression turned serious. "But, Slytherin is a noble and proud House in its own right and we will not stand idly by and allow... _Harry Potter_ of all people to claim the moral high ground. While the rest of you seem content to allow him fix **all** of your many problems, we are not so weak. And so to that end..." Snape snapped his wand, opening the door to the adjoining classroom next door, and out came a number of Slytherin students. They were members the of Quidditch team with the addition of few others as well, including a number of Seventh Years and- Harry noted with a frown- Theodore Nott. Harry inwardly kicked himself for once again putting trust in the wrong people, he had genuinely believed that Nott wasn't such a bad guy after all but it seemed that the moment he had been given the opportunity he had been there to taunt the Gryffindors before the fight had broken out. It seemed to Harry that his judgement about everything this year had been lacking.

Snape's smug expression broadened slightly, "Our House has decided that if Gryffindor is at long last able to accept responsibility for its own actions for a change- we will respond in kind. The students present have very generously volunteered to share your detention load despite the fact that it was not they who struck the first blow. It will be Slytherin House that will take the first step in repairing a tattered relationship. For the next five days the 20 of you will be beautifying our school together."

Harry blinked in surprise, caught off guard by the gesture. In spite of the words the gruff professor was using, at this point he knew enough about the man to know that this was Snape's attempt at following McGonagall's lead at fixing the problems between the Houses. Harry didn't believe for a second that Malfoy, Crabbe or Goyle (nor any of the other students for that matter) had magnanimously 'volunteered' for detention but he was impressed that their Head of House had actually managed to convince them that it was for the best. To actually take responsibility of their own behavior for a change was something Harry had never seen anyone in Slytherin do before but by doing it in this way, Slytherin kept their superior position but still made the first attempt to fix the rivalry, which any decent Gryffindor would respond to in kind.

And Harry couldn't help but notice that Snape had handed Harry a backhanded compliment of sorts. Surprises galore it seemed.

"To that end," McGonagall picked up, "we have picked a project that will require you all to work together by utilizing the different skills of Year levels. As you know Hogwarts is one of the most enchanted buildings in not only Britain but the world. However, no matter how great her magic, maintenance and repairs must be made, especially in such dark times. Therefore, all of you will be working on first cleaning, and then re-charming our Suits of Armor so that in the event of an attack we will be better prepared."

"We're going to let the Slytherins work on Defenses for the castle?" Seamus asked clearly flabbergasted. "They might sabotage the whole thing! We're not on the same side of this war!"

"Bunch of Death Eaters," Dean muttered in agreement.

Harry said nothing but he happened to think that his classmates had a point. There were quite a few people in the group that Harry suspected of having at the very least Voldemort-leaning-sympathies and at worst were in line for the Dark Mark as soon as they were safely out of Dumbledore's purview.

"Finnegan you are in enough trouble without adding slander and false accusations to the list. The only evidence that you have against any of the students present is your own personal dislike and considering the feeling is mutual between you, remember accusations go both ways," Snape snarled.

McGonagall shot a glare in Snape's direction at this particular quip but said nothing to correct the sentiment. She obviously felt this was an overstatement but was not yet ready to drop their united front. "Rest assured Finnegan, all work will be closely inspected and the consequences of anyone betraying our school, their peers and their honor will be more severe than any of you are prepared to handle. To that end, all of you will be working on polishing the armor- without magic. However, our Sixth Years will be working on the animus charm to ensure that the mobility of the Suits is intact, you are demonstrate and try to teach the younger years as well. Seventh Years and of age students- you will be casting the Duro Charm to add strength during a fight. This is not a technically difficult spell but requires immense power and therefore requires the strength of those that have reached their full magical majority."

Snape picked up the speech, "Nott, Goyle, Finnegan you are all 17 and will help with the charm. Weasley, Parkinson, you are closely coming up on your birthday in the coming weeks and will test to see if you are capable of it. If any of the rest of you want to test for it as well be my guest but keep in mind attempting such a spell when your magic is not strong enough can cause exhaustion, dizziness or pain. Given the nature of Suits and the fact that they work as a unit, this requires a further charm that ties their collective strength together. An Anchor if you will to draw from, this will require a great deal of energy and will be backed up after the fact by the Headmaster himself after Professor McGonagall has verified that the rest of the Suits are charmed appropriately." There was beat of hesitation before he said. "Potter, we're putting you in charge of the anchor. It will be the last spell of each night as you go along but it will get progressively harder as the week goes on as more Suits are updated. If it becomes too difficult, inform one of us immediately and allow Professor McGonagall to take over. She will be inspecting all of your work to ensure that its accurate and powerful enough to withstand actual attack."

"Potter's the youngest Sixth Year, how he is the anchor for the entire spell?" Parkinson scoffed. Harry saw with a slight sense of bemusement that Malfoy raised his eyebrows at her as though in disbelief and Nott openly snorted in amusement.

Snape stared down at her, "I had thought that I had instilled in you a sense of deductive reasoning Miss Parkinson. Who else in this group would be the anchor? Longbottom? Let us not be ridiculous." There was a strange challenge in Snape's eyes as he glanced at Neville that Harry couldn't quite read but was forced to admit that he was uncharacteristically satisfied with the flush that rose in Neville's cheeks following their conversation about the prophesy.

Neville seemed to suddenly believe that he was better than Harry and though Harry had never been one to brag about his own abilities he was feeling unusually smug that Snape of all people would endorse him in front of all of their classmates. A year ago Harry might have thought that Snape was forced in some way to admit that he would be anchor but now... given how openly the story of the last couple of days had spread around the confines of the castle Harry knew that Snape had at the least heard whispers of what had happened between Harry, Ginny and Neville and suspected that he was giving an intended dig at the other boy.

Harry was oddly touched by the gesture.

"But how do you know that he can do it?"

Snape raised an eyebrow, "I suppose we will see soon enough won't we?"

McGonagall taught them all the charm to add strength to the inanimate automations before having each of them try it. She started with the four Seventh Years present, all of whom were able to do it but one of the Slytherins struggled, his spell a weak, pale yellow color as compared to the brighter golden color of others. Nott and Seamus were also both able to do it but Goyle wasn't and glared at McGonagall as she told him that he would be helping the Sixth Years.

Ron was also able to do the charm but it looked like he was struggling a bit as well, his face rather sweaty, nevertheless he looked rather pleased as he was the only one under the age of 17 able to do it. Both Dean and Neville tried and failed but the Slytherins opted not to 'waste their energy on a spell for detention'. Not the most subtle ways of avoiding even trying.

Harry was the last to go and McGonagall showed him a slight variation so that the spell would link the Suits together. He took a breath before focusing, it would be immensely embarrassing to fail after Snape had built him up. He fired off the spell and three people winced at the bright, golden light that filled the hallway. "Potter!" Snape snapped and Harry hurriedly dropped the spell, realizing too late that he had overpowered it. It had worked but Harry had also tired himself more than necessary. He had thought that it would be hard, and in fact the way that he had gone about it had been, but he was still delighted that one of the people that had winced at the light had been Neville.

"I think that settles your concerns Miss Parkinson," McGonagall said rather smugly. "I will be back in 3 hours to inspect your work, and if I don't see my face gleaming in the armor I might very well extend the detentions."

There were a few grumbled assents before they got started on their work. Harry quickly saw that there were a few people that were apparently unused to detentions as they were inept at muggle cleaning. He had to show three different people how to properly polish with the rag so that metal shone. Despite Harry's tips, he was still polishing more than his fair share of the Suits, moving through them almost twice as fast as anyone else. Years with the Dursleys had trained Harry not to stop even more a moment when working and to work both thoroughly and efficiently- two traits that often seemed to be mutually exclusive because when he had been younger and rushed to complete all of his chores on days he was being punished the quality of his work had suffered... and then he had when he had been locked up in his cupboard.

"Damn Potter, I knew you got a lot of detentions but you act like you're training to be a House-elf," Nott commented when they were nearing the end of the night.

"I think you're forgetting that I grew up with muggles, and my aunt has a silver tea pot that she is obsessed with. Not sure why anyone would want my uncle's face reflected in anything but trust me, she was adamant about it." Harry said it in a light tone but a few people stiffened at the mention of his relatives after the articles of several months prior. Harry had made a point to show that nothing that had been written about him had bothered him and after a couple of weeks, the attention had largely died down. It was hardly the first time Harry had been in the spotlight after all and he had learned that it was hard to tease someone that didn't rise to the bait.

Ron had been quiet throughout the night, neither speaking to Harry nor the others but seemed intent on fulfilling his tasks. He glanced over at Harry's words but for once Harry wasn't sure what to make of his best friend's expression. Ron had stood up for him in the Common Room the night before but the two of them had yet to speak about anything since the shock of finding Ginny and Neville together and Harry couldn't help but wonder if Ron had decided to somehow blame Harry after all for the Quidditch ban. Possibly even for corrupting Ginny in some manner.

The detention ended and Harry felt a rush of power as he used the spell to link the defenses of the Suits. Once had discovered that he had not needed to use sheer brute force to get the spell to work, he had discovered the rather satisfying feeling of exerting such power. It was thrilling and had left him a rather hollow feeling when it had ended.

"Same time tomorrow," was all that Snape said to them all when Harry had finished his part. The Gryffindors turned away from Harry, evidently still not ready to accept the punishment from their own peer. Harry turned to go in the opposite direction, intent on taking the long way back to the Common Room rather than deal with any potential unpleasantness

"Hey Harry, can we talk for a minute?"

Harry sighed at the sound of Ron's voice. All of the sudden Harry felt impossibly tired and with that came a feeling of certainty that Ron was going to start an argument that Harry didn't want to deal with. It seemed as though the days were blurring together at this point and he couldn't seem to remember the last time things had seemed peaceful or even just normal. After everything else that had gone wrong it made sense that the attitude of their classmates had rubbed off on Ron too.

Harry knew from experience that left to his own devices, Ron would eventually apologize if he knew that he was in the wrong but whenever someone called him out on his behavior his instinct was to first deny that he was in the wrong and then stubbornly maintain his position. The fact that Harry had alienated his entire House, Harry assumed, would have made it all the easier for the redhead to believe in what he had done. Harry braced himself for the inevitable.

Ron turned to face him, his expression contrite but nervous. "Listen Harry… I'm sorry about the fight with the Slytherins."

Harry's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Really?"

Ron nodded. "I…I got into it at the moment and all I was thinking about were all the times that Malfoy insulted us or my family or…. or else landed us in detention with Snape because he blew up one of our cauldrons. He's been a nasty git to us for years and when is the last time that we ever started something with him? But… when you were talking about the fact that Second and Third Years got hurt and that we should be better than that… you were right." Ron shrugged uncomfortably and his ears were a flaming red color, a sure sign of both his embarrassment and sincerity.

Harry nodded, his own expression softening as he came to realize that he was not about to have to defend his decisions. "Still…I figured you'd be right pissed at me for the ban," he said, offering a sympathetic smile as though to say he would not have held it against his friend if he had been mad about it.

"Well I don't think it's one of your better ideas," Ron muttered. "You always were too noble for your own good, you bloody git."

Harry chuckled. "Yeah but sometimes you get points for strong moral fiber."

"And sometimes you piss everyone off and practically hand Slytherin the Quidditch Cup- which by the way if Malfoy gets to hold that Cup I will change my mind and be pissed at you for the rest of your life!"

"Trust me, ban or no ban I will never let Slytherin get that Cup. You forget who trained me in Quidditch, Ron. What was Oliver's favorite saying?"

Ron grinned, "'Potter, get the Snitch or die trying!'"

Harry smiled, "exactly. Which is why I need you at the practice we're having during Hogsmeade Weekend. I need your help coming up with an entirely new strategy- one that will help us get to the snitch no matter what. I don't care if we don't score a single goal, I just don't want them to score either. Which will be bloody hard without our Keeper."

Ron flushed for a minute and scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. He bit his lip as though trying to hold back what he was about to say before greater conscience took over. "Right Harry, about that…. I've been thinking and I heard what you said to McLaggen about not being on the team and it's not that I don't appreciate your loyalty and all but… you and I both know that he's the best replacement player we've got. You should put him in."

Harry could actually feel his face darken and he saw Ron's eyes widen slightly at the reaction the name invoked. "I meant what I said Ron, McLaggen will be on my Quidditch team over my dead body. I don't even care if we have to lose at that point, I won't play with him."

Ron blinked, "er… why?"

Harry breathed out, fists clenching and unclenching. "I wish I could say it was my loyalty to you Ron but honestly there's more to it than that. I… can't tell you but, er, long story short- I hate him."

Ron's brow flew up and he frowned in thought. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. This time it seemed as though Ron's thoughts escaped of their own accord before wiser thinking could prevail. "Does this have something to do with Hermione? I know they went to the Ministry Ball together…"

Harry grimaced, he didn't want to say anything. It wasn't his place to say something to anyone but to tell Ron of all people when he knew that Hermione had such conflicted feelings over her estranged friend was the worst thing that he could do.

"Honestly mate, you have no idea how hard it is for me to say this to you, but I can't say anything about McLaggen. Please don't ask me to tell you what I can't say…" Harry knew that he sounded pleading but all he could think about was how Ginny had abandoned him over the things that he couldn't say and there was a strange fear in him that he would lose everyone he cared about over secrets that he couldn't share.

Ron was regarding him with unusually serious expression. "Tell me one thing… is it because you want Hermione?" he asked softly, hardly daring to breathe and there was a desperate look in his eyes that surprised Harry.

"What?" Harry asked in surprise before shaking himself from the sheer unexpectedness of the question. "Merlin no! I…I mean," Harry winced at the shock in Ron's expression at Harry's vehement denial of feelings for the girl Harry knew his friend fancied, even if his actions said otherwise. "Hermione is my best friend…more than that, she's like the sister I never had." Harry paused for a moment thinking about how he could best explain himself. "You know how everyone is always on about me not wanting to talk about the Dursleys and how horrible it is that I don't have a family that cares about me?"

Ron's eyes clouded with confusion at the change in topic but he nodded uncertainly. "Everyone's so… shocked that I don't care about how the Dursleys treated me because everyone needs a family but the truth is they don't understand that I have one, Ron. You and Hermione are my family. And Sirius was my family. It's not big and it's not… I don't know, I guess a lot of people would say it's not enough but it is for me. But as far as wanting to…to be with Hermione… I think it would be the closest thing to you wanting to be with Ginny."

Ron's eyes widened comically in surprise and then a look a vague disgust crossed his features. But for a moment he didn't say anything but seemed to look at Harry closely to see if he truly believed he was saying. "You really don't want to be Hermione? Or… you don't think that Hermione wants to be with you?" he muttered uncertainly before looking away quickly, his ears turning a brilliant red, and Harry realized for the first time that this was something that had been bothering Ron for a long time.

"I suspect Hermione feels the same about me. We don't… we don't have siblings of our own and… we're the closest thing to it I guess." Harry shrugged. Ron nodded but there was a release of tension in his shoulders and an invisible weight seemed to lift off of him. He let out a deep breath before refocusing his attention onto his dark-haired friend.

Harry thought that he actually seemed to be worried about Harry in some way as his eyes narrowed. "Alright. I won't ask but Harry… I'm not Ginny. I don't want you think that I'm going to run out on you just because you can't tell me something that you know. If you can't tell me, I can trust that you have a good reason."

It was Harry's turn to be surprised. The last thing he had expected was for Ron to be so perceptive of his feelings. He couldn't help the smile that came to him. "Thanks mate. That means a lot."

Ron shuffled uncomfortably for a minute, seeming to struggle with himself for a minute before blurting out, "Harry I'm sorry, I know I shouldn't ask, I bloody know it's not my business and you have every right to tell me to go to hell but I need to know- were you sleeping with my sister?"

Harry blinked at the direction the conversation had gone and further surprised himself when he realized that he actually wasn't angry that Ron had asked the question. "No, Ron. Ginny and I never slept together. I've never…" he shrugged, clearing his throat suggestively, leaving the rest of the statement obvious. "with anyone I mean," he clarified with a wince as though it hadn't been obvious that if hadn't slept with the only girlfriend he had ever had, surely he hadn't slept with any other girl.

Ron nodded, seeming to assure himself of something he had been trying to tell himself all along. Harry debated with himself and then decided that his loyalty at the moment laid with his best friend. "Er… not that it's your business at all but I had it out with Ginny last night and… that was her first time. With Neville I mean, it was the first time she had ever..." Harry coughed uncomfortably and decided that this might well be the most awkward conversation he had ever had. "I wouldn't say anything but I don't want you thinking your sister's been all over the place. I might be right hacked off at her but I don't want you to think…" Harry shrugged, wondering if he was right to say anything or not. "But for Merlin's sake don't ever let her know that I told you that," he added hastily.

Ron nodded again and clearing his own throat, "er…thanks mate. I know…well Gin's made it clear that I don't have any say in what she does but…she's my sister and… well you're my best mate and you never said anything and I kind of thought that if you had… I mean with anyone that is…"

Harry flushed a bit and unable to contain his curiosity asked, "have you and Lavender?"

Ron blinked in surprise that Harry would ask and Harry was surprised at his own boldness in the question. He had never been one to pry into details about people, even his close friends. He usually waited until they brought something up to him. He didn't consider it his business what Ron choose to do with his girlfriends and knew that they deserved privacy but at the same time now that he had walked in on Ginny and Neville together he couldn't help but wonder how many of their classmates had been shagging this whole time.

"Er… no. Well... I mean we've done…stuff."

"Right, well of course," Harry agreed hastily, having no desire to get into a detailed discussion of Won-Won and Lav-Lav's alone time.

"But I've never… not with Lavender," Ron trailed off as though just realizing that perhaps Lavender, though certainly good for a snog was perhaps not the person that he wanted to share something so intimate with and obviously not wanting to say as much out loud.

Ron suddenly grinned and shook his head, "damn who would have thought that Neville would be the first person in our dorm to actually have sex."

Harry grinned back ruefully, "I think Seamus might have him beat there."

Ron shook his head, "no mate, remember I was with Seamus that night after you ran out- good call by the way, I think that pissed Neville off more than if you had stayed and fought with him. But anyway, Seamus couldn't believe that Neville had done it. I mean trust me, he's tried with like a dozen girls but none of them had gone that far."

Harry shook his head, "well maybe if the dozen girls didn't all know that he had tried with all the others first," he muttered.

Ron seemed to consider this idea for the first time. "Yeah I suppose they don't like that, do they?"

Harry frowned at him. "No I don't imagine that girls like thinking that the bloke they're interested in could care less about anything other than sleeping with them," he answered drily.

Ron laughed. "Yeah alright but honestly mate, you sound like you've been talking to Hermione too much lately."

"Speaking of Hermione… how much longer are you going to let this fight or whatever the bloody hell thing you have going on with her go on? It's been over a month and now that you're in a decent mood I might as well just tell you now- you were right git to her."

Ron scowled and his mood instantly soured. True to form, Ron turned defensive of his actions. "I might have been a git but Hermione wasn't some innocent little angel that never defended herself. She did plenty."

Harry pursed his lips. He wanted to help Hermione and a large part of that was repairing her relationship with Ron but he also didn't want to reveal anything that he had promised to conceal. "Maybe but you made things worse and if you haven't noticed, Hermione's… she's upset and a lot of that is from the fact that she hates fighting with you. Remember back in our Third Year, how crazed she made herself because we weren't speaking to her?"

A guilty look flitted across Ron's face and Harry knew that the redhead hated the idea of Hermione in pain. "Right but this time she has you."

"Trust me Ron, it's not the same thing. She wants to stop fighting with you. She... she's having a rough time right now and she really needs you."

"What do you mean by a rough time? What happened?" Ron asked suddenly anxious.

Harry shook his head, "That's for her to say. To her friends," he added pointedly. "Look both of you are miserable when you don't talk to each other but both of you hate to admit that you were wrong. Be the bigger person here Ron. Suck it up and apologize. I don't care if you think she started it and I don't even care if you really mean it but do it, and do it soon."

HPHPHPHPHP

Ron had not apologized to Hermione yet but there had been a significant lessening of hostilities over the next week. He no longer went out of his way to antagonize Hermione, nor did he glare at her in class whenever she answered a question. Something- Ron had finally noticed- she was doing far less of than was her custom. In fact quite a few times Harry had caught the concerned look that would pass over the redhead's face as he noticed that Hermione was pale and distracted. Harry was finding it difficult balancing his time between both of them and not just forcing them back together to talk things out.

Harry wasn't the only person to notice the cooling of hostilities from Ron, Lavender had seen more than one glance that Ron had thrown Hermione's way and was none too pleased with this sudden turn of events. She was intensely jealous of the care that Ron seemed to have for the other girl and was not shy about saying it out loud. The couple was arguing daily...and Harry was joyfully counting the days until Lav-Lav was a thing of the past.

In other news, despite McGonagall's warning, Harry was not wrong when he suspected that he was going to rapidly become the most unpopular person in Gryffindor Tower. Most of the House was actively ignoring him, while McGonagall could give detentions for direct actions no one could punish them for simply refusing to talk to Harry. However, a few of the more vocal upper years had even taken their chances and continued with underhanded pranks. For the first time in almost two years Harry briefly regretted giving his Tri-Wizard winnings to the Weasley Twins as his investment was coming back to haunt him in the form of unfortunate stink bombs, seats that zapped him as he sat and colorfully imagined drawings that had adorned the Common Room with unflattering images of himself.

Any sympathy that Harry might have drawn from his dramatic break up with Ginny had been overshadowed by the sense of betrayal that the rest of the Tower had felt about the ban and Harry was subjected to any number of cruel whispers, jokes and taunts. Everyone had seemed to come to collective decision that Harry must have treated Ginny very badly indeed for her to take such action and found that he was once again being blamed for things that were not his fault.

Needless to say Harry had reported none of this to McGonagall. He was touched at the woman's attempt to protect him, and had wished she had done the same in the past, particularly during Second Year when he had not been as prepared to handle himself. However, at this point Harry had dealt with worse and he was determined to stand by his decision, he was proud of Gryffindor but that pride stemmed from the fact that he had actively chosen a House that would never do the things he had feared a Slytherin would do when he had placed the Sorting Hot on his head. He might have been naïve at eleven but he had never regretted the decision to walk away from potential greatness if it meant that he would become someone like Malfoy or Voldemort.

These high morals didn't stop him from hating coming back to the dorm at the end of the day because Dean and Seamus were still furious about Quidditch and Neville was acting stranger than ever. Ever since their argument over the prophesy Neville had been avoiding him like the plague, laughing half-heartedly as others teased or mocked him but the anger that he had shown Harry that night was gone- but Harry was not quite sure what it had been replaced with.

However, surprising thing about the whole mess was not the students reactions but the teachers'. Harry wasn't sure if he was imagining it but he was almost sure that all of them knew that not only had he and Ginny split up but the reason for it as well. It was after all a small castle and the teachers lived there just as much as the students, which meant that naturally the story had spread through the student body like wildfire. Harry had been prepared to handle the usual mixture of contempt, teasing and sympathy from the various Houses but the look of surprise that he received when he handed in his Herbology essay on time that Monday was not something Harry was prepared to handle. Nor was the surprise that Sprout, who normally adored Neville as he was brilliant in her class, refused to award the boy the customary points one would usually receive after he was the first to extract the venom from his plant. McGonagall had uncharacteristically given Harry 30 points for being the first to transfigure his facial features- usually Hermione was first and she generally only received 10.

But not everyone was in Harry's corner- Tackley had given him a bit of smirk that Harry returned with narrowed eyes and a clenched jaw. Snape was unexpectedly quiet, he didn't have Neville in class so he couldn't say that he was definitively siding with him, but the comment that he made during his first detention had stayed with Harry.

HPHPHP

It was Friday night and Harry had just finished with his last detention. Snape had been right about the 'anchor' spell getting progressively harder as the week went on and more and more Suits were added to defense, and Harry had struggled to get through it but he managed it. Snape had given him a curt nod but he had not missed the slight looks of awe from Seamus and Dean and the appraising looks from both Nott and Malfoy that they had failed to hide.

Now a rather tired Harry found himself in Dumbledore's office once more. It had been a busy week and it was crazy to think that this was the first time they had had the chance to meet not only after the events at Crescent Nest but also since they had made the breakthrough about the Horcruxes.

"If there was ever a person in need of a warm cup of hot chocolate, I daresay it might be you my boy. Forgive me for perhaps overstepping my bounds, but I have found it soothes a broken heart," Dumbledore offered a sympathetic smile along with a steaming mug of cocoa.

Harry looked up in surprise, blushing only slightly. "So everyone does know."

Dumbledore smiled at him sympathetically but made no attempt to hide the obvious, "an unfortunate side effect when the walls quite literally having ears. Our portraits have never been particularly discreet I'm afraid."

Harry accepted the offered cup of cocoa but could think of nothing to say to his Headmaster. Sitting in front of a man that was over a hundred years of age and thinking about your girlfriend sleeping with one of your friends lent an entirely new dimension of sleaziness to the affair and he was not sure how he should respond. Dumbledore seemed to sense his uneasiness and said, "life is long my boy, and rarely is our first love our last. Do not let it discourage you."

Harry flushed as realized that he owed the man an apology, "Sir... I'm sorry. You told me that I needed to be careful with who I trusted, and I did take your words to heart but... I was prepared to tell Ginny everything even when you warned me not tell someone just because I was... well," Harry coughed. "If I hadn't been called away at the last minute she would have known everything and... I honestly don't know what she would do with that information. I- I trusted her professor, but I was wrong and I'm sorry. I should have listened to you."

The older wizard granted Harry with a fond smile, "you have a remarkable capacity to both trust and forgive Harry, especially in light of the harsh experiences in your life. It is not something that you give away freely and yet at the same time you offer your friendship to those that ask for it and your loyalty to those that have earned it. You have shown that you have good judgement, and therefore, what I tell you, is yours to share with whomever you feel you need to. Yes, it's true that I feel that discretion is often the better part of valor... but I have also made the mistake of not trusting enough. I guard my secrets closely Harry and...I must admit that it at times it makes for a lonely life. You owe me no apologies, I am only sorry that you found your trust to be broken by those you had found worthy of it."

Harry saw the man in a new light. To him, Dumbledore had always represented leadership, guidance and answers. He was the one that solved your problems, the one with all of the answers. There was almost nothing that the man didn't know and few things that he couldn't do. But he had never before stopped to consider the terrible burden that must be placed on him. Last year he had felt a sort of kindred spirit with Dumbledore as they were both being targeted by the Ministry but despite the fact that Harry had felt sympathy for him, he had never really doubted that Dumbledore was much better equipped to handle all of the negative press than he was. To suddenly see that the Headmaster, Supreme Mugmump and Leader of the Order of the Phoenix could feel lonely due to his position granted him a new perspective on the most powerful man in the Wizarding World. Harry found it both frightening and oddly reassuring to see that he was vulnerable just like everyone else.

Not feeling the man wanted sympathy at the moment Harry decided that it was best if they got down to business, "why is that you wanted to see me sir, you haven't found anything more about the Horcruxes, have you?"

Dumbledore shook his head, "I'm afraid not at the moment, though I believe I am close to one of them. No this concerns some very different objects that Voldemort does not yet have in his possession, though if Severus is correct we believe that he is quite close to at least one of them."

Harry's eyes widened, "he's close? Is there any way we can get it first?"

"Based on the location that I was told... no. Which is our next cause for concern..."

At the conclusion of the meeting Harry left in spirits lower than any cup of hot chocolate could fix. He had yet to inform Ron or Hermione about the Horcruxes yet as other things had always come up between them but he needed his friends' judgment and advice. He needed their support.

Unfortunately, it appeared that yet another complication were still headed their way.

HPHPHP

Harry was beginning to seriously worry about Hermione.

Ron might have ceased hostilities with Hermione at the moment but he had not quite made it to the point of apologizing and without knowing the reason behind Hermione's uncharacteristic silence, Harry had the impression that Ron felt that she was stewing over their fight and he was refusing to back down first. While the redhead seemed to feel some guilt over the situation, especially in light of Hermione's growing distress, the two had still been avoiding one another. Leaving Harry alone to try and help his friend with a situation he knew that he could not fully understand no matter how much he wanted to be there for her.

Now that Harry had renewed his status as pariah of Gryffindor tower, the two of them ate meals at the end of the table, or rather Harry would eat and encourage Hermione to do more than pick on bits and listlessly shuffle her food around with a fork. While he had at first thought that Hermione was slowly getting over what had happened, she suddenly seemed worse than ever. Harry had never been particularly good at talking to people about their feelings or forcing difficult conversations but he was growing increasingly concerned that Hermione was not coping with what had happened.

Dudley had needed to speak to a professional in order to work things out for himself and judging from the last letter that he had received from his cousin, he was doing much better. Harry had always preferred working things out for himself or else trusting the people closest to him but he had learned that it was a method that did not work for everyone. Perhaps Hermione needed support that he couldn't give her. She had once called a meeting of everyone that cared about him to make sure that Harry got help that she had thought he needed, should he too speak to someone else? An adult? The concept was strange for him. He wished that he could at least ask Ron what he thought. He hated that he was the only one to know Hermione's secret, constantly worrying that he was the wrong person to help her.

After a fourth dinner of Hermione largely moving food from one side of the plate to the other Harry had had enough.

"We need to talk, we're going to the Room of Requirement," he said quietly but firmly, leaving no room for her to argue.

"Harry I'm..."

"Stop Hermione," Harry spoke quietly, not wanting to draw attention to their conversation but his tone was firm and resolute. "I'm sorry but you're not fine. You've been saying that for a week, every time I try and talk to you and it's not true. I haven't seen you eat more than a piece of toast for breakfast in four days. I think you actually have more mashed potatoes on your plate now than when you started. You're exhausted, it looks like you haven't slept in days. We're going to the Room of Requirement and you're going to talk to me or else I'll make sure you talk to McGonagall."

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise, clearly unprepared for such a response from him. Her eyes darted to the door as though she could somehow escape the conversation all together before her shoulders slumped and she seemed to accept her fate. "Alright...let's go."

"Not yet, first we're going to the kitchens and getting some tea, you need it." Inwardly Harry thought that once he got Hermione talking he might need it as well. Hermione nodded her agreement to this and they got up, both meals incomplete but Harry's at least with a healthy dent in it. "Did you know that the Room of Requirement doesn't make food? I tried to get tea in there one day and it didn't work."

"Well of course not Harry, food is one of the five exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration." Harry blinked at her, "how did you know that?"

"Honestly it was in the reading months ago! How can you not remember that?" Harry grinned at her sheepishly. "Maybe I was negotiating Wizarding peace that day?" he supplied cheekily, to which Hermione huffed in exasperation.

Several minutes and only two clipped comments about using the house-elves for personal convenience later, they both settled into a very cozy room by a fire with chamomile tea and a tray of scones that the elves would not allow them to refuse. Harry was quiet for a few minutes, allowing Hermione to set the tone if she wanted. He didn't think it was right to push someone into talking when they weren't ready but clearly something needed to be done before his best mate starved herself or else drove herself insane through sleep deprivation.

Just as he about to break the silence, Hermione spoke, her voice quiet and trembling, her hands shaking her tea cup. "I think I'm late Harry."

Harry frowned, "what do you mean? We're not late for anything, we've got ages before curfew. And you're a prefect anyway."

Hermione shook her head, two tears sliding down her cheeks as she said, "no, no I mean I think...I think my period is late. You know..."

For a moment Harry had no earthly idea what Hermione was talking about before... "oh Merlin! Really? Er... sorry I- I mean... what do you mean 'you think'? Don't you know?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, "it's not... it's not a clock or anything. It's not like it's always the same day of the month, unless you use something to regulate it but... it's been about a week since I...expected it to happen and...nothing."

Harry let out a slow breath, both to control his panic and run through his apparently appalling lack of knowledge of the female body. "But... well you said it's not always the same time so...does that happen?"

Hermione nodded tightly but did not look reassured. "Sometimes. Last year I was so nervous about the OWLs I skipped the whole month, sometimes it happens, I just... I never had to worry about it before and now..."

"So, you mean like stress? Stress can er... throw the timing off?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at this description but nodded. "Well... you've certainly been under stress lately. It could be nothing," Harry tried consolingly.

"Harry you've never been one to shy away from the truth just because you didn't like it. It could... I mean it's possible and that's why I've been so upset...every day that goes by just means..." she let out a shaky sigh, holding back a sob.

Harry nodded and grabbed hold of her hand in both of his. "Alright... so we have to know, don't we? Which means you have to talk to Madame Pomfrey..."

"No, I can't Harry, don't you understand what that would mean? If it's true, if I'm... they would have to tell him...Cormac I mean...as the father he has the right to know."

"No he bloody doesn't! He doesn't have any rights after what he did to you. You have the right to send him to prison and you have the right to take care of yourself and...anyone else you need to."

Hermione was still shaking her head, "No Harry you really don't understand, I already looked it up. The Wizarding World is different than the muggle one. Their laws are older. It doesn't matter how it happened, the baby would still be his. He could...Harry he could insist that we get married. It's even worse that he's a Pureblood and I'm a Muggleborn, the laws side with the magical family. If I refuse he could insist that I have it and then he could take the baby after it's born."

Harry felt a surge of anger at the unfairness of the laws before something else stuck out to him. "If you are pregnant... are you thinking of not having it?"

Fresh tears well up in Hermione's eyes at this suggestion and her shoulders shook. "I don't know. I just... I can't believe this happening! What am I going to tell my parents? What is everyone going to say? I thought... it sounds so stupid Harry but I thought that I was going to be Head Girl next year. I worked so hard and now..."

"It's not stupid, Hermione. No one deserves to be Head Girl more than you. You've worked harder than anyone and you didn't do anything wrong. I told you that I would remind you of that as often as it took, didn't I? Let's..." Harry struggled not to let his own panic and disbelief at the situation overwhelm him. Hermione needed him to be calm, after all the times she had calmed him down he owed her now. "We have to worry about one thing at a time. Hermione... I still think you have to go to Madame Pomfrey. You know she's discreet. She treated Ron for a dragon bite First Year and didn't even ask questions. You spent a month with her as half a cat after botching polyjuice, she won't say anything."

"She'll have to this time. If I go to Madame Pomfrey she would have to make a report and is obligated to tell the father, it's the law. Custody of magical children is a very complicated thing apparently, even unborn ones."

Harry blinked at this. Considering his relatives had loved to repeat the story over and over again how he had been casually discarded on a doorstep at 15 months, this was news to him. Harry dragged a hand down his face. "And I guess you can't find out on your own otherwise you would have done it?"

Hermione shook her head. "There's a potion but it's very complicated and the ingredients are expensive. They wouldn't be easy to come by either." Harry frowned in thought, trying to think of a better solution before a person came to mind that Harry never thought in a million years he would turn to for help.

"There is someone else that we could ask. Someone I don't think would feel any obligation to tell anyone," he said hesitantly, even now thinking it was a big mistake. He had always sworn that he would never ask the man for anything but the last few months had taught him that in spite of everything else, he was at least a man of his word. "We could ask Snape."

"Snape? Are you serious? Harry, you of all people think that we should go to _Snape_ for help?"

"I don't like him, I don't think I ever will. Snape's a nasty person that never concerns himself with anyone's happiness, even his own, but Dumbledore was right about one thing- we can trust him. He's proved that much and I think he would help us if we asked."

"We?"

"Hermione don't be absurd, you know I'm going with you." Harry glanced at the clock that the room suddenly provided. Assuming that Snape hadn't assigned any detentions that day (never a safe assumption with a professor that enjoyed spreading as much misery as Snape did) he should be alone in his office at the moment. "We could go now. You need to put this out of your mind or you'll never sleep."

Hermione hesitated for a moment before giving Harry a reluctant nod, slowly getting to her feet. Harry pulled her into a hug, "no matter what happens," he whispered to her, "I will be there for you. You aren't alone Hermione. You tell me what you need and consider it done. And hey...if I off Voldemort for the Ministry maybe they'll give me a free pass on a murder of my choice- no one will miss McLaggen anyway."

Hermione gave a watery laugh before pulling away and slapping his shoulder lightly, "don't even joke about things like that Harry, it's not funny."

Harry grinned at her before grabbing her hand and leading her down to the dungeons. The classroom was empty of students, thankfully, and Harry raised his hand to knock on the office door, momentarily wondering if he was making a huge mistake. He knocked and there was beat of silence before the silky voice inside intoned, "enter."

Harry opened the door and caught a rare look of surprise on the professor's face at seeing the two Gryffindors in his office so late and of their own accord. "Mr. Potter... I don't believe that we had any existing engagements this evening, nor with Miss Granger."

"No professor," Harry said, "Er...I was hoping that you could help us with a...problem."

Snape raised an eyebrow and Harry could see that man was both surprised and suspicious that either of them would seek him out for help in any form. "Indeed. And what sort of 'problem' do you find yourselves in, Mr. Potter."

Hermione stepped forward and Harry could see that her face was very red, her hand was sweating and shaking in his and Harry squeezed it in reassurance. "Professor I was hoping...I was hoping that you could give me the _Feriulous Potion_..."she mumbled.

Snape's eyebrows rose and he looked quickly from Hermione to Harry, his eyes narrowing a moment before finally saying. "Usually when a young woman asks for such a potion there is a rather significant man involved in the process as well."

Harry glared at him, hardly able to believe that he had thought that Snape would actually be capable of some compassion. Stupid as it was, he hadn't actually thought that Snape would ask but there was really only one thing Harry could say and he didn't hesitate for even a moment.

"What do you think I am?" He asked aggressively. Hermione opened her mouth to correct him but Harry squeezed her hand, urging her to let him work it out. She did not need to reveal her secrets to Snape of all people. "I'm here for Hermione."

"My my, Gryffindor Tower must just be a flurry of activity lately. It is hard to keep up. I should have realized... after all Longbottom is hardly one to start trends now, is he?" Snape asked sardonically and both Harry and Hermione flushed in embarrassment.

Snape pinned Harry with an impressive glare, one he hadn't seen in quite some time, he'd almost forgotten how intimidating the man could be when he tried. "Firstly I think I've made it abundantly clear that in spite of rare moments of maturity, you are a boy not a man. Though in regards to this situation that distinction hardly becomes relevant as despite your many reckless decisions, this is certainly not one of them. No- the _boy_ that is responsible for this... 'problem' as you call it is not here and Miss Granger designed it that way, did you not? I take it that the two of you are here rather than with Madame Pomfrey because you are hoping for discretion and Miss Granger is smart enough to know that as a medical professional Poppy is obligated to inform the father if the test turns out positive, correct?"

Harry glanced uncertainly at Hermione, unsure what he should say. He should have known that Snape would figure out that he wasn't the father but he still didn't want to force Hermione to say anything that she wasn't ready to say yet.

Hermione gripped Harry's hand in a vice-like grip, her panic bleeding through to his crushed fingers and her eyes were wide, bloodshot and scared as she begged in trembling voice. "Please professor...he can't know. I... I didn't mean to..."

"Hermione didn't do anything wrong professor. Nothing." Harry's voice was low and harsh, his anger at the situation bleeding through before he could stop it and he felt his face flush with the heat of his fury.

Snape's eyes narrowed and he gave a curt nod, and Harry knew that Snape knew exactly what had happened. He waited for the professor to insist that they tell him who had done it so that they could be punished but the man only stood up and moved closer. When he spoke his voice was softer than usual and kinder than Harry had ever heard him speak before. "Have a seat Miss Granger. I take it that you never went to the nurse after... sexual intercourse occurred, were you hurt at all?"

A few tears slid down her face as she realized that Snape had figured out that she had been assaulted but she shook her head, Hermione's bruises had all healed at this point. "Nothing serious."

Snape nodded, "young women should always receive an exam from a qualified nurse or Healer once they become sexually active but especially in cases of violence. I trust you know that." Unlike Snape's usual condescending tone and scathing remarks, his lecture was calm and understanding.

"I know, I was stupid. Harry told me that I should have gone when he found out about it but... that was weeks later and I thought... I'm sorry professor."

Harry opened his mouth to protest but Snape surprised him but saying instead, "there's no need to be sorry for past mistakes that were made at a time when you were not able to think clearly. You are... one of the more capable and intelligent students I have taught in my time here Miss Granger but no one is perfect." Snape's eyes flicked to Harry and he could feel the assessing weight of his gaze as he took in the fact that Harry had at least tried to offer sound advice but had not pushed her to go. Harry wasn't sure if the professor was impressed by his restraint and understanding, or angry that Harry had not pushed her to do the right thing.

Hermione blinked in surprise, the only time Snape had ever alluded to her intelligence in the past was to call her an 'insufferable know it all'. "Thank you professor."

Snape only nodded again. "You said that you informed Mr. Potter of what happened weeks later, how long ago was... er rather how long ago since your last menstrual cycle?"

Hermione flushed once again at the personal question and Harry too felt uncomfortable. Hermione had been his friend since they were eleven and in all that time he had never once spared a thought to anything like that before. Hermione had once accused Ron of finally noticing that she was a girl but at the moment Harry suddenly realized there was a lot about Hermione actually being a girl that seemed important for the first time.

"I... I think it was about 6 weeks ago. I'm not exactly sure..." Hermione blushed again, "I've never had to worry too much about it before," she mumbled.

Harry expected Snape to comment on dunderheaded bookworms that should pay more attention to important details rather than memorizing pointless trivia in order to impress people but once again he refrained and Harry was suddenly glad that he had felt that he could trust the potions master with something like this. The two of them had been forced into working together for months now and most of the time Harry found himself wishing for the end but a few times the man had surprised him with what he was willing to do to fulfill his duties. Harry had never before thought that you could trust or respect someone that you inherently disliked but he was slowly starting to realize that it was possible after all.

"Is there anyone else that you informed of this... situation?" Snape asked, though he looked as though he already knew the answer. Hermione shook her head, her front teeth worrying her bottom lip. "I- I didn't want anyone to know. I didn't even mean to tell Harry but..." Hermione gave him a small smile and gave the hand that he was still holding another squeeze.

Snape frowned, "Ms. Granger... given your own actions earlier this year I don't think that I need to tell you about the virtues of speaking with someone about this. Potter, I know that you shun all attempts made by others to assist you but I didn't think even you were stubborn enough to inflict your own ideas of ignoring problems on others."

Harry gritted his teeth, it really was impossible for Snape to be decent for more than 2 minutes at a time. "It's not Harry's fault professor," Hermione argued. Snape raised an eyebrow at her argument but Hermione shook her head and spoke firmly, "honestly. Harry even threatened to go to McGonagall if I didn't at least talk to him first. I just... I can't... not yet," she whispered the last part as if she knew that something inevitable was going to happen and she was delaying it as long as possible.

"You don't have to do anything before you're ready," Harry told her gently.

Snape's expression was stern, "Miss Granger, that is a perfectly understandable reaction but I would like you to understand the full implications of remaining silent. Not only are you letting a person that hurt you, that violated you in the most intimate and unforgivable way go free but you are also ensuring that the guilty party is free to do this again to someone else."

"That's not Hermione's fault! It's not her responsibility to look out for everyone else," Harry protested.

Hermione flushed, looking uncomfortable and guilty. "I...he's right Harry, I- but I can't say anything without knowing... he's a Pureblood," she whispered in way of explanation.

Snape's expression was inscrutable for a moment and Harry at first thought that he would urge her further but instead he said he gave a curt nod, "I can run the results of the potion before you make any decisions Miss Granger, but I urge you to think carefully about not retaliating. You have shown in the past that you are quite the formidable witch when crossed... as Miss Edgecomb can most assuredly attest, I would imagine that someone with that sense of justice would feel that whoever is responsible should be appropriately punished."

Hermione blushed once more at the reminder that she had once permanently disfigured a classmate that had dared betray their secrets. It was trick that no one in school had ever really forgotten.

"I just need...I just need some time Professor."

Snape nodded once more, "And there is nothing wrong at healing at your own pace as long as you remember that healing is a process that cannot be ignored. I sincerely wish for once I did not need to be blunt but I know of no other way to make this clear Miss Granger, this is not something that you can pretend didn't happen. Rape is a terrible crime but I feel it is even more devastating when committed against someone as young as yourself. Your intimate relationships in the future will be tainted by an event that you could not control but that should not mean that you should not enjoy future intimacy. Talk to your friends, talk to a professional, talk to your Head of House...talk to me if you wish but do not make the mistake of burying your pain...I know from harsh experience that that is not a path you wish to take."

Hermione blinked and her lips trembled as fresh tears sprang to her eyes. "Th-thank you professor," she whispered sincerely. Harry looked up at his professor in a new light. He had never seen Snape like this. Honest and genuinely compassionate. Open about his own experience when it was not to highlight his own strengths.

"What happens now professor?" Harry asked quietly. "Hermione can't go to Madame Pomphrey, not if she's forced to tell the Ministry who the legal father is."

"I can give Miss Granger the _Feriulous Potion_ , but she will not be able to take it until the end of the week. First I have to obtain the ingredients and then it will take 3 days for the potion to fully develop."

"I can pay for the ingredients sir, Hermione told me that they would be expensive," Harry interjected before Hermione could say anything.

"Harry..."

"It's fine Hermione, I have the money, it's not important and I don't want you to have to explain to your parents why you need so much extra spending money all of the sudden." Harry explained. There were not many times Harry thought about the large inheritance his parents had left him, finding it a poor substitute to actually being able to grow up with them, but for perhaps the first time Harry found himself grateful that he had a distinct lack of parental oversight and therefore lack of questions about what he was about to buy.

Snape nodded but added, "there will not be many things that you will need to purchase out of hand. The school provides most of the needed ingredients for various things and as you are a student at this school with a potential medical condition there is no reason why I cannot justify their use for you."

Hermione looked at bit startled by this line of reasoning but said nothing, instead nodding her understanding. "Miss Granger, I have no objection to keeping your confidences and remaining discreet however there are certain things that need to be addressed. First and foremost you need a medical exam. I cannot in good conscience allow you to go without it but if you are comfortable I could perform the exam myself."

Hermione's eyes widened and Harry stiffened unsure what such an exam would entail. "You would not be required to undress and I would not need to touch you Miss Granger, I can use spells. As part of a potions mastery, healing charms and medicine are taught quite extensively. I know the necessary charms to see if there are any problems with your health and a simple blood sample will show if there were any illnesses that were contracted even if the possibility is remote. I do have to warn you that although the tests I am doing do not require any undo invasiveness on your part, if any problems are discovered that would change and I would no longer be the best person to help you."

Hermione nodded her understanding nervously. "Er... thank you professor I would appreciate your help." Throughout the conversation Hermione had not let go of Harry's hand but instead of dropping it now, he merely raised both of them with a questioning expression on his face.

"It will not impact the spells if you continue to hold her hand," Snape said curtly.

It only took a few minutes and a quick blood sample later before Snape stepped back, "everything appears to be in order. It would seem... at the time there was some tearing but that has largely healed on its own. I cast an additional healing charm but everything else appears to be in order. I will know the results for the other tests by tomorrow if you wish, or you may wait until Tuesday when the _Feriulous Potion_ will be ready, I will leave that to your discretion."

"Thank you professor... I know that I'm putting you in an awkward position," Hermione admitted uncomfortably, knowing that the results of the potion are supposed to go to the Ministry.

"On the contrary Miss Granger, the only people obligated to report paternity results are medical professionals, which I am not. I have always appreciated the intricacy of laws- and how easily they can often be circumvented."

Hermione smiled and turned to leave, and Harry was left not knowing quite what to say himself. Snape had helped them without hesitation and regardless of his casualness, he was in fact going well beyond his role as Potions Master at the moment. In the end, Harry's eyes met Snape's and there was a new understand that flashed between them that was perhaps better than anything he could have said.

 **A/N: Next chapter is going to get back into the mysterious objects more closely as well as the war with Voldemort since I know its been neglected a bit with more character-oriented stories. Thanks again for all of your reviews, I love hearing all of your opinions :)**


	34. Midnight Confessions

**Chapter 34: Midnight Confessions**

 **Tonks' POV**

' _Protego!'_ she thought, raising the shield wordlessly before Harry could get off his next shot, but it was vain, his exalted " _Expelliarmus"_ cut through her shield as though it was butter and Tonks found her hand wandless and her feet groundless as she was prompted knocked backwards.

Harry grinned at her as he raised her wand in his left hand, leveling his own in her direction, "yield?" he asked.

"Yield," she acknowledged. She could perform the basics of wandless summoning of her wand but was not as proficient as some were, and not stronger than Harry when he was on his guard, which he certainly had been all night. He had been batting away her attacks with increasingly fast parries for the past hour during their practice and for several minutes in this duel alone and- she was frustrated to note- unlike herself he did not seem to tire in the least.

Harry's smiled broadened at her as he transferred both wands to his left hand then offered his right to her to help her off the floor before handing her back her own wand. "I win," he told her smugly. She wished she could say that after several months of training it was the first time she had heard those words from the teenage fighter but in the last few weeks Harry had really come into his own. He didn't beat her every time but it was certainly a tight race at this point and she had not doubt that by the end of the school year Harry will have surpassed her own level when it came to single duels. She still had the edge on creativity and her experience was holding strong for the moment but Harry utilized what he knew better than almost any fighter than she had ever seen. He moved quickly, fought with great instincts, and had sheer power to back him up when all else failed. He still wasn't as good as a Mad-Eye or even most of the Senior Aurors when they were fighting strong but if were to go up against any of the Aurors from her own recruitment year, she would not have bet on her former classmates.

"Wotcher Potter, if I had bothered to use the spell verbally it might not have worked out as well, remember that before you get cocky."

"Wotcher Tonks, I think you have a spot of dirt on your bum from falling on it," Harry sniped back at her with casual confidence. Tonks couldn't help the laugh that escaped her despite the fact that as his teacher (technically) she probably should be reprimanding him for talking like that to her. After the first few tense sessions before Harry had confronted her about her attitude towards him, the two of them had settled into a relationship built more on friendship than as a traditional teacher/student. After all, Harry was less than 10 years younger than herself and the fact that it was just the two of them during these tutorials meant that by necessity they worked closer than an ordinary teacher would with a student.

Tonks had to admit that she had been rather put out at first when she had found out that she was going to be giving fighting lessons to a Hogwarts student, even if it was Harry, rather than working cases or doing actual fighting. These were dangerous times, but also busy ones for Aurors and when Tonks had first been selected for this assignment she couldn't help feeling that her skills were going to be wasted by helping someone that was not even out of school yet. But- like so many other things earlier that year- she had been wrong. Harry had approached their lessons with passion, enthusiasm and most of all diligence. He did everything that she asked no matter how difficult or time consuming and unless he had a relevant question, without complaint.

She had found that it was rewarding teaching someone that genuinely wanted to learn and Harry made the time they spent together fly by with his eagerness to learn but what truly surprised her was that he was funny. His little quips and quick wit made the time she spent in the small training room more enjoyable than she would have expected and she found herself looking forward to the two training sessions that they had each week. Even better was the fact that Harry had told her about the dummies that he had been using in the special room in Hogwarts that she had certainly never found as a student so that any time she taught him something that she expected to have to re-teach and train in the next session more often than not Harry had already practiced it over and over again. Harry had a single-mindedness when it came to important tasks, she could tell that he was no Ravenclaw and if he hadn't truly believed in what they were doing he never would have put in as much effort. He wasn't particularly strong on magical theory either but when it came to practical application there were few better in the field- or at least there wouldn't be in a few years when Harry was done training.

Which meant that the best part of all was the fact that the last thing she had expected to get out of these lessons were improvements in her own dueling skills. Harry picked up the techniques quickly but what was better was that he challenged her usual ideas. When Tonks had gone through Auror training it all been very straight forward- in this situation you use this protocol, when your enemy attacks with this spell combination this is the counter, but Harry was always questioning why. Wondering how they could improve simple moves and looking to include different styles to throw off his opponent. They were the type of questions that Tonks had once asked and she had learned the answers too long before the Auror Academy. The types of fighting she had learned to pretend that she didn't even know in front of most of her instructors. Needless to say Tonks hadn't had such a good dueling partner in a long time and she hadn't even realized how much she had missed a good fight.

"Should be go again?" Harry asked, bouncing slightly on the balls of his feet with a hint of agitation.

"Slow down killer, give a girl a minute between beat downs. What's gotten into you today? You've been bouncing off the walls all night."

Harry stopped mid bounce, his face freezing for a moment, "just have a lot on my mind at the moment, this is a good way to keep my mind off of it all."

Tonks frowned at him, she knew that Harry was busy with a lot of things but to his credit he had always left all of his other obligations at the door when they practiced. She had to admit that it was in fact very easy to forget that Harry was not only still in school but dealing with things that no teenager should have to concern themselves with. She remembered her 'crises' from Hogwarts- would the boy she liked ask her to Hogsmeade, was her future doomed because she was terrible at Charms and unlikely to get the proper NEWT grade? The most unusual problem she had encountered at the time was that she had messed up metamorphosing and been stuck with green skin for a week. Harry's problems made her own look absurdly childish in retrospect and she felt a swell of sympathy for him. "Anything you wanna talk about?" she asked.

Harry's mouth quirked upward, "not particularly but thanks. How is everything else going... with the Order?"

Tonks lifted an eyebrow, when they had first started lessons she had expected Harry to use their time together to try and wheedle information out of her about the Order but he had remained almost strangely quiet about asking about it. Being one of the youngest member of the Order, Tonks had actually felt more sympathy for the Hogwarts aged kids last year for the lack of information that they were given than most of the other members of the Order- but that didn't mean that she was prepared to go against the rules for them.

"Nothing I can talk about," she said pointedly.

Harry rolled his eyes slightly, "right, top secret. Very impressive."

Tonks was unimpressed herself, "It's classified but you already know that."

Harry waved a dismissive hand, "and I didn't ask for information I asked how things were going, a simple fine would have sufficed. I thought that they taught deflection techniques at the academy?" He asked her cheekily.

Tonks felt herself growing hot and hoped her cheeks weren't flaming as much as she suspected they were at the moment. "Things are fine. We're meeting later actually, if you must know."

Harry only nodded but didn't press further but his eyes still looked unfocused and distracted. "You sure you're alright?" Tonks asked again.

Harry sent her wry look and she was unsurprised when he answered, "I believe that it all falls under the category of 'classified' but don't worry... it'll be fine," he spoke with the air of someone that was trying to convince himself more than the person that he was talking to." She couldn't blame him for the cheekiness of the answer considering she had to hide so much from him but she still felt bothered that he would spite himself just to spite her. He was not even looking at her and she was suddenly harshly reminded that Harry was only 16 years old. He was still a kid really so of course he was being immature. She didn't know why she felt a sudden flash of irritation at a revelation that she had already known but the truth was Harry usually acted so much older than he actually was that the harsh reminder of their age differences was almost a shock. An unpleasant one.

"I would tell you if I could, but there's some things that I can't share," she explained more patiently than she felt. "It's dangerous information for anyone to have Harry, I thought you understood that."

Harry blinked and she realized that when he hadn't been looking at her it was not through active avoidance, he had been lost in his own thoughts. "What? Oh sorry Tonks, yeah, I know." He must have caught the skepticism in her expression because he sighed quietly before nodding. "I got mad last year because no one was telling me anything even though I _knew_ Voldemort was trying to kill me and everyone acted as though if they avoided saying it in front of me I would somehow forget. But unless there's another giant conspiracy of about a dozen people hiding a prophecy with my name on it again, I don't need to know. I wasn't just being a git though, the things that are bothering me... they aren't my secrets to tell."

Well that certainly made her feel like the world's largest prat in the universe. It seemed that she should stop to consider if the pot was black before calling someone else immature. "I'm sorry...I jumped to conclusions. I shouldn't expect that you can tell me everything just because..."

Harry grinned at her, but there wasn't a lot of humor in his expression, "just because I'm a kid that doesn't know anything? Trust me Tonks... you're not the first to make that mistake," he muttered scrubbing his face.

"Can we go again?" he asked impatiently.

Tonks blinked at the change in topics before acknowledging that if there was no one he could talk to at the moment about what was bothering him a healthy distraction might just be next best thing. She raised her wand.

HPHPHPHP

Tonks was bored. And frustrated. And wanted to go home and take a very much needed nap. With Voldemort being more active and the Ministry playing catch up for the year that they had blatantly ignored his return, all Aurors were working extended hours to deal with the escalating conflicts. Muggles were being attacked on a daily basis, which not only required Aurors to first intervene and try and stop the attacks if they were caught fast enough, but to investigate who the Death Eaters were that were responsible if they weren't in time. Tonks had come to the depressingly realization that they were rarely if ever in time to stop them.

Worse was when they did make it in time and suffered defeat after defeat at the hands of the Death Eaters. Tonks was widely considered one of the best duelers of her generation, while she lacked the skill that Moody had possessed in his prime, she was probably the best to come through the ranks in the past 10 to 15 years- and that was courtesy of the Black blood of her mother rather than any training that the Academy had provided.

Andromeda Black had been a much quieter but no less staunch rebel to the Black name than Sirius had been. Growing up, her mother had had very little to say about any of her relatives, though Sirius in particular she had been extremely tight lipped about. Whenever he somehow came up, Andromeda would shake her head and mutter that it was a shame that he had succumbed to the pressure after so long. After it had been revealed that her once-favorite-cousin had in fact been innocent the whole time, the floodgates had opened and her mother had revealed dozens of stories of Sirius publically embarrassing his parents at large family gatherings as he vocally stood up for 'mudbloods' and 'blood traitors'. Andromeda, on the other hand, had sat through meal after meal listening to her bigoted relatives with a polite but vague smile pasted onto her face. She had done well in all of her classes, been respectful to her parents and their like-minded friends, and had never once received an Owl home complaining about her behavior. And so it had been with shock and downright horror from the family when they had discovered that the eldest of the Black daughters had run off with a muggleborn and gotten herself expelled from the family without so much a glance back at them. Sirius had been a Gryffindor through and through and had suffered for his rash but honest bravado, but Andromeda had been the epitome of a Slytherin and played her cards carefully until she had known that her actions would cause her the least amount of suffering possible.

But no one raised under the Black name didn't learn their fair share of nasty curses and how to deliver them while shielding from attacks on their own person. The underage magic ban was little more than a family joke, obviously meant for weak imitations of wizards that were sullied by dirty muggle blood- not true Purebloods such as themselves and so it was that every summer and break from school the Black children had been taught the very best techniques by some of the most skilled fighters available. It was no coincidence that it had been Bellatrix that had killed Sirius, despite years in Azkaban for the both of them, they were still among the best fighters for either side of the war and it was a common belief in the Black family that only one capable of defeating a Black in a fight to the death was another Black.

And so when Tonks had made her plans for joining the Auror Academy clear to her mother, her mother had taken it upon herself to teach her how to fight in ways that would have had the Auror instructors alternately cringe and gape. Her reputation for dueling had risen quickly through the ranks, though she had had to be careful not to expressly go too far against what her instructors were doing lest she get in trouble for 'unapproved fighting styles'. However, despite still being a Junior Auror in the ranks, she was often chosen for some of the best assignments. Unfortunately, the Order apparently seemed to feel differently about her skills or else they were purposefully wasting her time based on today's mission. For the past few weeks she a few others had been on rotating shift guarding a part wizarding village outside of Manchester, specifically the MacDougal family, though she had never been told precisely why it was this particular Wizarding family needed extra, secret security. The village was small, only a few hundred residents and though isolated, it was also rather non-descript. She had been tasked with what amounted to glorified babysitting and after coming off a double-shift and more paperwork than one raid should ever need, she was well aware that she was more upset by her latest assignment than she would have been normally. However, the fact that she knew that she was overreacting to the situation was not helping in the slightest. As much as she had gotten annoyed with Harry for her even suspecting that he was being childish in wanting to know more information, even she had to admit that the Order's secrecy even from its own members was often frustrating.

"Don't know why they need two of us for this," Mundungus muttered, "seems a shame to have the both of miss out on sleep. We should be taking this shifts see and then we can both get a little shut eye."

Tonks raised her eyebrow at him, while she would most certainly use any spare moment to grab such much needed time with Morpheus, she knew perfectly well that Mundungus' standard operating hours were from evening to 5am. She knew perfectly well why he wanted to abandon post- again- and in spite of the fact that she very much wanted to take up the offer of splitting the monotonous task, her spite won out and she would not allow Mundungus to skirt his responsibilities anymore.

She was about to tell him off when the ground shook and the air around them exploded with force. Turned out that they weren't given such a useless assignment after all. Color jets of light suddenly lit up the dark sky and the previously peaceful neighborhood was suddenly in chaos.

Cracks of apparation thundered through the night and Tonks had raised up a solid shield and dodged to her left before she had even taken in the full situation. "Sound the alarm!" she shouted but if there was thing Fletcher was good at, it was getting out of dodge and alerting others to the hard tasks- he was already on it.

Tonks trades spells with two Death Eaters, both far more confident and strong in their spell work than she was used to seeing in all but the Inner Circle- and she was almost positive that these two were not Inner Circle. They possessed none of the grace in dueling, nor the rarity of spells that Voldemort's most trusted were known for using in a fight. Which meant that they were confident for another reason, and Tonks really didn't like the sound of that at all.

There were more cracks of apparation and dozens of Aurors filled the streets alongside many other Order members. Spells clashed in the night and screams of terror splint the night sky. And that's when Tonks saw what had made the lower recruits so confident in their victory, she could see a solid block of Death Eaters marching up the street- spells seemingly imperious to the solid shield that was being held by the dark robed figure at the front of the thong. Unlike the ones behind him, Tonks couldn't make out a mask on the figure over deeply hooded face, but whoever it was walked with surety of purpose and a swagger of arrogance that was almost as effective at stilling the spells sent in their direction than the strange silver shield that he carried in front of mob. The shield though only solid in the front, blocked the group, which was a closely formed pack of about a dozen of the top fighters, in all directions so that any attempt made to hit them at any point was blocked. The cluster of Death Eaters were tearing a path of destruction down the center of the road- broken bodies, covered in blood were left in their wake and the sound of pain filled cries and utter terror filled the air and Tonks felt her adrenaline spike when she the combined efforts of half a dozen stunners hit the shield only for it to do nothing.

There was a blast up the street and more screams, she saw Harley Trunkle, an Auror that had graduated only a few years above her gasping for air as blood ran from open wounds in his chest, the rest of the skin burnt and black. Amalie Jenkins was crying out in agony as noticed for the first time in her pain fogged mind that both of her legs were several meters from her body. Julian Andrews, a Senior Auror with three kids and had survived one war already was mutilated beyond recognition. Tonks only knew it was him because his youngest daughter had convinced him to wear bright purple shoes to support her favorite Quidditch team. The sight of his mangled body caused her retch. They were being overrun and now the muggles were pouring out of their burning houses, neighboring wizards were casting protective spells but to no effect. Over the past few months, Tonks had been in more than one unfortunate loss but never before had she seen the sheer power that the shield gave the Death Eaters.

They had reached the MacDougal house and the protective wards were ripped to pieces in short order, Tonks was too busy to hear the conversation but it was obvious that they were looking for something- something it was clear that they didn't find when the robed figure with the shield stepped forward to reveal himself. She was not surprised to hear the shrieks of terror that the revelation that it had been Voldemort himself that had led the attack. The muggles were in a state of panic, unable to know what was happening, the remaining wizards that had not been able to flee to safety were in a state of abject terror as the man of their nightmares made his first truly public appearance.

"There will be no use resisting me!" he shrieked into the night, his voice high and alien sounding. "There is no escape from Lord Voldemort, no resistance you are capable of giving. Surrender to me now and I will spare your lives...wizards. And you will see the worth of magical blood."

The Aurors were given the signal- they were in full retreat. They had lost but they could not unconditionally surrender, they could not be allowed to make any oaths or promises. As Tonks used the emergency porkey that was designed to break through all protections, her last thought was she had failed the muggles most of all. They would not see the sunrise.

HPHPHP

Harry woke with a gasping breath and a concerned Ron leaning over him, he flinched away from the closeness of another body after the brutality of what he had just seen and he saw Ron take a comfortable step back as though to give him more space. The fear, pain and terror of the muggles and Aurors that he had just experienced as though it was his own had been near overwhelming and it took a minute to realize that the bed wasn't actually moving, he was shaking uncontrollably.

"You're alright Harry, he isn't here. You're alright," Ron said, voice pitched low and comforting. Through the blurriness of his vision Harry saw that Ron had both hands up in front of himself, showing that he was not going to hurt him. Harry felt a flash of embarrassment at his best friend having to treat him like a frightened animal.

Harry rapid breathing was slowly settling down and he wiped the clammy sweat from his forehead as he sat up. "I- I have to go..." he said absently. He wasn't sure where. There had been Aurors and Order members present so he knew that Dumbledore would be informed shortly, which meant that Harry didn't need to tell him anything, but he did need to escape his staring dormmates. In the last couple of days hostilities had finally started to cool but Harry still felt embarrassed and weak for being seen in such a distressed states by boys that had been harassing him for over a week.

Harry stumbled clumsily out of the room, his usual coordination and balance gone in his blind panic.

He made it the Common Room and sunk into the nearest sofa, his knees week and limbs still trembling slightly before he even noticed that Ron had followed him down, carrying both of their dressing gowns and Harry's glasses. It took another minute before he noticed that he was not the first person in Gryffindor Tower to leave the warmth of their beds for the comfort of the fireplace.

"Hermione?" Ron asked in surprise. "Why are you here? Did you know that Har...why are you crying?" he asked with growing alarm. "Are you alright?"

"Ron!" Hermione shrieked, clearly startled by their appearance when she had been alone with her thoughts in the dark room. Harry knew that he should be comforting her. He knew that he should sit down next to her and put his arms around her and let her cry but after his initial flight from the dormitory he was suddenly frozen in place. He couldn't move towards her, couldn't offer comfort to someone that desperately needed it because he was too absorbed at the moment with his own horror. It made him sick to think of his own cowardness.

"What's wrong Hermione?" Ron asked again, his voice concerned but firm in wanting an answer. "And don't say nothing because you've been upset ever since we got back to school."

Distantly Harry could see Hermione rallying defensive arguments, her eyes flicking in desperation to avoid the conversation and protect her own secrets, and he again felt that he should be helping her by redirecting Ron's focus away from her but he felt as though he was trapped in slow motion, unable to do anything at the moment but watch his two friends interact.

"Nice of you to finally care then," Hermione huffed impatiently. "You haven't wanted to speak to me since I invited you to Slughorn's party but suddenly you're concerned?"

Ron was blinking dumbly in surprise, clearly unprepared for the bitterness of her remark.

"Hermione," Harry tried, because he knew that she didn't want to make her fight with Ron worse, knew that she was only desperate to get him to back off from finding out about her secret, but he also couldn't blame her for being defensive and upset.

"You're right," Ron interrupted quietly, his expression an odd mixture of guilt, embarrassment and regret. "I should have asked you the day we got back from break what was wrong. I shouldn't have been avoiding you... both of you," he admitted, turning to Harry with red tinged ears.

Harry raised his eyebrows, it was true that Ron had skirted him carefully the first week or so back from break, instead spending nearly every waking second around Lavender, Harry remembered complaining to Ginny about it, but after **The Break Up,** as Harry had started referring to it in his mind, and everything that had happened with Ginny Ron had gone back to his normal behavior... more or less he suddenly realized. After all, Harry had been devoting his time to worrying about Hermione, it had slipped his notice that Ron had still been keeping his distance. He had chalked up their distance to the fact that Ron was avoiding Hermione but in truth he had still been avoiding speaking with both of them.

Hermione seemed shocked at the admission herself and experienced a rare moment of speechlessness.

Ron seemed to be steeling himself for whatever he was about to say, and it was clear that in spite of bring up the confession he still very much wanted to keep his own secrets, but it seemed that Hermione's clear need of a real friend had ensured that he was willing to take the first step towards honesty. "Did Harry tell you that I took your advice about speaking to that Mind healer?" He asked, his voice was soft but in the silence of the Common Room they could both hear him clearly.

Hermione's jaw dropped slightly at the revelation that Ron had chosen to share such private information with her after the two of them hadn't been speaking for over a month. There was also clear surprise that he had listened to her to her advice in the first place, and concern about what he might say next. Harry was almost as surprised, they had told him that Ron was healthy... but then, with a rush of shame, Harry remembered that day in the kitchen that Ron had said that he had needed to talk to Harry but had then avoided ever bringing up the topic again. In the rush of everything else on his mind- first the fight with Percy, then the werewolves, the Horcruxes, Hermione and Ginny- Harry was ashamed to admit that it had completely slipped his mind. The knowledge that Ron was not suffering from any mental illness had been such a relief that he had ceased to worry about anything else.

Hermione glanced quickly at Harry and then back to Ron, "no, he never told me. I- I'm glad that you listened to me, I know that you didn't want to go and-" Hermione ducked her head slightly. "I should have been more understanding about that at the time... what happened?" she asked hesitantly.

Ron glanced over at Harry and smiled slightly as way of thanks for not talking about his own affairs to Hermione behind his back, but Harry would never have done that without Ron's approval and he was pretty sure that Ron was confident about that as well.

Ron blushed slightly, his left leg jiggling and his hands once again playing with one another. Hermione seemed to jump to the most logical, but wrong, conclusion, "I'm sure everything is going to be fine Ron. It's really good that you went to a Healer because now you know how to treat this. I'm really proud of you. Did they tell how to treat it? Do you have to take potions? I imagine that they must be strange at first, I know in the muggle world medication has all kinds of side-effects, especially when you're adjusting to them." Unlike Hermione's usual questions there was no burning excitement for knowledge or her usual lack of tact when faced with logic over emotion. In the past her intrigue over a new branch of magic could have easily overpowered the fact that they were discussing something that was uncomfortable for Ron to discuss at all. Instead there was simply genuine concern and an understanding that a situation like this might be hard to adapt to and as his friend, she was there for him.

Ron's eyes widened and he stuttered for a moment, "er...thank you Hermi,one but I'm not sick, I mean… I don't have what my uncle has so I was able to tell my family that I was fine and obviously I don't have to take any potions or anything but…"

Hermione winced at her mistake before muttering an apology for jumping to conclusions but this time both Harry and Hermione waited to let Ron fully explain himself. Harry was still recovering from the sights in his latest vision but his worry for his friend was pushing his own terror and trauma towards the back of his mind. He had a feeling that it wasn't considered strictly healthy to be able to temporarily forget about one trauma in favor of learning about another, but he could worry about that later.

"Well Sarah- Bill's friend," Ron added unnecessarily, "told me that just because people don't suffer from er... well what she called 'classified mental illness' doesn't mean that they still don't struggle with other…issues." Ron was looking anywhere but at the two of them and it was clear that he was fighting to get the words out. "When she was doing her exam, er… you know that they use Leglimency, right?"

Both Harry and Hermione nodded and Ron let out a shaky breath before starting to speak again, "well she told me that I have… insecurity issues and… problems expressing anger in er… 'appropriate ways' because I let everything build up and build up and then… unleash it because I can't stand it anymore." Ron spoke with his eyes firmly on the ground, his ears flaming red and his body language obviously tense and uncomfortable. Harry admired the courage that it must have taken for him to admit that to the both of them and felt it was one of the bravest things he had ever seen anyone do.

Hermione was looking at Ron closely, seeming unsure what to say for a long moment, before finally speaking quietly, "I'm sorry that I told you that I was inviting you to Slughorn's party just because you wouldn't have been invited otherwise. That was… I should never have said that to you Ron and I don't blame you for being upset, but the truth is I wanted to go with you. I would have had a great time with you."

Ron blinked at Hermione's response to his confession, his expression shy yet hopeful. "I'm sure that you had a great time with…McLaggen anyway," he said neutrally, and unwittingly sending Hermione straight back into tears.

Now that Harry had recovered from his own problems he was able to do what he should have done all along and moved to comfort Hermione in front of a clearly baffled Ron, she fell into his arms, tearstained face quickly wetting his dressing gown. "Hermione…why… what did I say?" Ron asked, eyes wide to show that he was bewildered and alarmed.

Harry shook his head, knowing that Ron had meant his words as a peace offering, a way of telling her that there were no hard feelings about the date she had chosen, but of course Ron had no idea just how awful that night had actually been. "Nothing Ron, she…I think she was just upset before and you know that she hasn't wanted to fight. I think she's just happy that you two are talking again."

"No," Hermione said, "I mean, yes _of course_ I'm glad that we're finally talking again. I hate fighting with you, but Harry's trying to protect me from having to tell you the truth but I want to tell... you should know." Her voice trembled with still unshed tears and her shoulders shuddered with repressed emotion.

Ron shot Harry a look of surprise but didn't look upset with Harry's decision to keep whatever it was that Hermione was hiding a secret, only all the more concerned as to why he would have to do such a thing in the first place.

Harry shook his head in Ron's direction over Hermione's head as though in warning, but he wasn't sure of what. Part of him knew that it was a good idea for Hermione to tell more people about what happened, to make sure that she wasn't ashamed of it. But another part was worried that she was only telling Ron because he had shared something with her and she was vulnerable. That she would be telling him out misplaced guilt or to put their friendship on equal footing. He was worried that come morning she would regret saying anything. He wasn't sure what he wanted to happen but before he could say anything Ron spoke up, his voice gentle and with a kind of understanding that Harry did not think the other boy would have had a year, or even a couple of months, ago before his own problems had occurred.

"Hermione… you don't owe me anything just because I told you my secret. If you don't want to tell me, you don't have to. But you should know that I will always protect your secrets, even from myself if that's what you want."

Hermione pulled out of Harry's arms only to launch herself into Ron's, crying hard into his shoulder. "It… it was Cormac he… he-" she pulled back just enough to glance at Harry beseechingly, not able to say the words herself but wanting Ron to know the truth.

Harry swallowed, and when he spoke his voice was rough, "He hurt her Ron. It was bad… he- he assaulted her and now...er… and now we're waiting to find out the result of the _Feriulous Potion_."

Ron's face was blank for the space of moment before pure rage lighted in his eyes, "Ron," Harry warned quietly. He knew how Ron felt and agreed with the sentiment wholeheartedly but it wouldn't help Hermione for Ron to start ranting and raving in the middle of the night, waking everyone up. Nor would it help anything to beat up McLaggen at the moment. Not that it wouldn't make Harry feel a hell of a lot better.

Ron's fists were clenched and for once his face was white instead of tell-tale red but he let out a shuddering breath, "you should have let Harry deck him in the Common Room Hermione."

Hermione shook her head, still too upset at the moment to do anything else but Harry nodded his agreement to this sentiment. "Wish I had, though personally I think Hermione throws a perfectly good punch herself. Remember how she took down Malfoy Third Year?"

Ron looked at him incredulously, "are you honestly asking me if I have forgotten one of the best moments in my entire life? Harry when I am old and senile and don't remember _you_ anymore, I will still remember Hermione punching Malfoy."

That got the desired watery chuckle out of Hermione who didn't seem to have it in her in at the moment to reprimand them for their discussion for once. "Hermione..." Ron said, turning serious. "I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry I wasn't there when you needed me-"

"You don't need to protect me Ron... you were having a lovely night with Lavender..."

"Well I'm sorry I wasn't there that night but... what I really mean is that I wasn't there for you afterwards. Harry even told me I was being a git, he didn't say anything else," Ron quickly added, "but he told me I should get over myself and make up with you but I _was_ being a git and even when I finally figured that out, I still let it go on and I even expected you to fix everything because that's what you normally do and..." he let out a breath after his rambling, "I'm sorry."

Hermione nodded, her face was still lined with tears but she had calmed down. "I think we both could have been better friends to each other this year... I've missed you though Ron."

Ron grinned at her, the tension still tight around his eyes but his grip around her had loosened slightly and Harry knew that Ron was going to hold it together until he could unleash that rage later. "I've missed your homework help. McGonagall's ready to flay me alive."

Hermione actually laughed at that one, "serves you right, prat. I should have stopped helping both of you ages ago."

Harry raised his hands in mock innocence, "what did I do?"

Somehow it was as if Harry's presence was fully remembered and instead of continuing the joke Hermione raised a questioning eyebrow, "actually... that is what I would like to know. What happened? You had a vision right?"

It was as though someone had thrown a bucket of ice over him and suddenly the horror of the vision was back with him. "Voldemort found the Slytherin Shield he's been looking for," Harry confessed to them. "And it's a lot worse than we thought it was."

That grabbed both of their attention, they sat up straighter though Ron did not drop his arm around Hermione's shoulders and she leaned slightly into his side for more comfort. "What? It actually does exist?" Hermione asked in surprise. "He found it?" Ron demanded.

Harry nodded and he knew that his expression couldn't hide the horror what he had seen from them. "I'm not sure where he got the Shield from but he was after the map from Ravenclaw... luckily he didn't find that as well but the Shield..." he let out a shuddery breath.

Hermione took his hand into both of hers, "what did you see Harry?" she asked him softly.

Harry let out a slow breath before speaking quietly, "the Shield... its impenetrable and the Aurors, the Order they weren't able to get past it." Harry shook his head but recounted everything that he had seen. Voldemort's thrill of victory, the fear and terror of the villagers... the mass murder of the muggles.

"They're all dead?" Hermione asked in horror.

Harry shook his head, "he killed a lot of them, the rest he... corralled into one area and made it clear that he was their new...master. He's keeping them as slaves and as examples to the next people that he goes after. He took over the entire town Hermione... he even started putting up new wards. He's establishing a base of operations and his plan is going to be move South."

Both Ron and Hermione were suitably horrified with this news, in one fell swoop it was if the war had shifted from its initial stages to full out combat. There had been a part of Harry that had still felt as if they had been preparing for war but that past now, Voldemort had just had his first major victory and from what Harry had seen of the Slytherin Shield it wouldn't be the last one.

"Did you say that only Voldemort was holding the Sheild?" Hermione asked, a familiar note of speculation in her voice.

Harry nodded, "well if you know Voldemort, you would know that he would never let anyone handle something that valuable- especially something of Slytherins. He thinks of it as his birthright."

Hermione nodded but it was more distracted than in an agreement, "he might be the only one that can use it... unless it changed alliances."

Harry was confused but Ron's lighted with comprehension at once. "The story, the objects will only follow someone that has those qualities. And you have the sword Harry, if V-Voldemort is the only that can use the Shield you might still be able to beat him with the sword!"

Harry let out a shaky breath, "sorry if that doesn't fill me with confidence," he said wryly. "First I had to go up against someone with roughly 70 years more magical experience than me- not to mention the small fact that even when he was my age he was better than me- and now he has a magical object that can defend against my object... which to be honest I'm not even good at using. Little secret guys... sword play is kinda hard. I had no idea what I was doing against the basilisk, I got lucky."

Ron seemed to roll his eyes, "Harry, if I had a sickle for every time you 'got lucky' I would make Malfoy jealous. Besides how hard can a sword be- just use the pointy end and stab."

"Ronald honestly!" Hermione sighed with such classic exasperation that Ron grinned at her, "sword fighting is an art form, one that takes years to learn properly... but what I meant was, after the Welcoming Feast I looked into the myth about the objects, and to be honest I was never quite convinced that they all existed in the first place, or that they would all survive after all this time, but now that we know that they do, its possible for the objects to switch allegiance, particularly if they were taken under the wrong circumstances. Remember Harry- you only got control of the sword when you displayed the traits of a true Gryffindor. My guess is Voldemort simply stole the sword, which means it's not truly his."

Both Ron and Harry looked at Hermione incredulously, "um... Hermione if there's anyone that likes to show off the fact that they have all the traits of Slytherin House, its Voldemort!" Ron exclaimed.

Hermione shook her head, "that's not what I mean, of course Voldemort has traits of Slytherin House but that's not what's important-"

"He would have had to use those traits at the time that he got the Shield," Harry finished and Hermione nodded her agreement. It made sense, if there was one thing that Harry had learned from Dumbledore over the years it was the significance of intent with magic, but that didn't change the most important thing. "Hermione you didn't see what I saw, if that wasn't the Shield working properly, than I don't know what is."

Hermione looked troubled by this description but didn't have anything to say for the moment before finally softly uttering, "are you alright, Harry? You looked white as a ghost when you came down."

Harry nodded tightly but didn't elaborate. This wasn't his first vision of death and destruction, nor was it the first where he could feel the terror of Voldemort's victims, it shouldn't have affected him so strongly but he couldn't stop the reel in his mind from flashing the horror of the night.

"If you think this changes things Harry... that you can't beat him, you're wrong. I would bet on you against Voldemort any day," Hermione said with conviction.

Harry looked at her wide eyed, "you...he's... what I see when I get this visions...its horrifying," Harry admitted quietly. "I don't see how I can beat him."

"You'll beat him Harry because you have something that he will never have. You have people that love you. Really, truly love you. Voldemort has frightened little followers that have already abandoned him once. Dumbledore's right in more ways than one Harry... you have love on your side and that's stronger than some brand on someone's arm that enslaves them."

Harry looked at his friends, both them had laid out their fears for him that night and for the first time in his life he felt that it was alright to say, "I'm scared."

Hermione nodded, "we are too, Harry."

"Well this is all bloody fantastic," Ron muttered grumpily. "Three of down here at three in the morning and not a piece of good news between us. We should really do this more often." Hermione gave him a half-hearted swat but leaned her head on his shoulder. Harry gave a brief but tired smile.

"Actually," Harry hedged, feeling keenly that both his best friends had unburdened themselves of great secrets tonight and he supposed it was time to do the same. The stillness and quiet of the room, the darkness that allowed him to forget about their slumbering classmates only floors above them, somehow allowed for an intimacy usually didn't exist, even among the three of them- his two very best friends. "If you can take just a bit more bad news... I've been wanting to tell you both this for the past couple of weeks but something always came up and the time was never right. I never really intended to keep it a secret but..." Harry shrugged feeling that he was justifying something that really didn't need to be justified, but he still wanted his friends to know the reason why he had not come to them immediately.

"The night of Slughorn's party, Dumbledore wanted me get some information, do you remember?" he asked them. Both Hermione and Ron looked startled, as though surprised that they had both forgotten to ask about the fruits of that particular labor.

"You got it then? The information you wanted?" Ron asked.

Harry snorted, "I certainly wouldn't call it the information that I _wanted_ but I got what I needed yeah. I found out why Voldemort didn't die when the Killing Curse rebounded on him, it turns out that he can't die."

"That's impossible, magic can't-"

"Magic can't bring you back once you've died but it can make it so that you can...exist forever basically," Harry clarified.

Ron was straighter to the point, "how?"

"They're called Horcruxes, basically Voldemort ripped potions of his soul apart and stuck them in different objects and until those objects are destroyed, he can't die."

Both of their expressions conveyed the same shock that Harry no doubt had at learning this news. He went on to tell them everything that he had learned, the fact that Voldemort had wanted to split his soul into seven pieces, the fact that the objects were almost certain to be under intensive magical protection and finally the fact that they had no idea where they were.

"Never thought that the crux of the war would be a massive scavenger hunt," Ron commented. "First the Founder's Objects and now these Horcruxes, anything else?"

"Well if we find Voldemort's humanity along the way it might make everything a lot easier," Harry answered drily. Hermione shot him a wry look but none of them were counting on much.

"You know we're with you mate, no matter what. It doesn't matter if we have to find every magical object that goblins have ever touched, Hermione and I are with you, right?" Ron said, with a glance at Hermione.

"Absolutely."

Harry smiled softly at her, "I know and I appreciate that but before you help me, Ron and I are going to help you." The _Feriulous Potion_ _was set to be ready later that day and Harry was determined to be there for Hermione as she had always been there for him, and judging from the fact that Ron had not yet dropped his arm around her, he agreed._

HPHPHP

Classes had dragged that day. None of them had made it back to sleep that night and so with barely three hours sleep a piece they had gone through their classes with unusual lethargy. Despite the lack of sleep and the horror of the vision that he had seen, Harry felt lighter than he had in quite in while. For the first time in weeks he, Ron and Hermione were all friends again. Perhaps better friends than they had ever been. For years his two closest comrades had run headlong into danger with him and stood side by side with him against the tyranny of the school, but the confessions of the night before- each bearing out their fears and insecurities, secrets that they each knew would never would have shared with another soul- was a deeper level of intimacy and trust than they had ever shared in the past.

When Harry and Hermione had gone off to potions he had assumed that Ron would use the time to catch a nap- instead the redhead came back with a glint in his eye and softly spoken admission to Harry alone that he had used the time to channel his anger at McLaggen at a half-dozen dueling dummies in the Room of Requirement. Ron was quite particular in saying that while he was confident that they could 'just beat the living piss out of him', McLaggen deserved a special kind of hell that was more creative in nature. Harry was quick to agree though he was empathic in saying that it was Hermione that had final say in anything that they did. If Hermione wanted him to take care of it, Harry would thank her for the pleasure, but he knew from his own hard experience that you couldn't take someone else's revenge for them. And Hermione was more than capable of defending herself when the need called for it.

Things were starting to look up which meant that it should have come as no surprise at all that in Charms Harry received more bad news.

"All of you have been doing an excellent job with your paired projects," Flitwick told the class with great enthusiasm. The Head of Ravenclaw in particular was a big supporter of the creative academic projects that they had all been doing and had eagerly looked forward to each one. Hermione and Terry were still leading the pack in the ranking but Harry and Daphne had done well also. Their project on tracking charms had gone extremely well, earning them the top grade for the first time. They were currently ranked second overall with Draco and Neville very close behind in the third slot. He had never been overly competitive with grades in the past but after the formal apology that he had had to give Draco in front of the school and the humiliation that Neville had set out to give him, he was not about to surrender his position to them.

"Therefore I think you'll all be excited to find out that for our next project we're going to be changing things up a bit. For the next project all of your pairs will be working the other pairs with the same house assignments. For example, all Hufflepuff- Gryffindor teams will be working together on one team and Ravenclaw-Slytherin teams will working on another. This is a chance to broaden your team building skills and see different perspectives on the House qualities that you have been learning from your partners all year."

This was very bad news on all counts for Harry. For starters they were the only House grouping that had only one other pair which meant that they were already at a distinct disadvantage from the other teams with their lack of numbers alone. The other problem- of course- was who the other pair happened to be. Harry shot a scathing look over at Neville and Malfoy, unsure which of them he was more upset with having to work with. Malfoy, he was convinced, was an actual Death Eater... but he had rarely been at mad at anyone as he was at his dormmate and former friend.

Several hands shot into the air, Daphne and Terry's among them, on any other day Hermione's would have been higher than anyone's but currently Hermione was too focused on her scheduled meeting with Snape that night for even school assignments to worry her. "Sir- if we're working in larger teams how will that affect our rankings for the projects?"

"Excellent question Mr. Boot and for that we will be using a different point system than we have on the other projects. Rather than being graded on the final project alone- in which your whole team will give equal points to all team members, individual pairs will be awarded, or deducted, points throughout the project for ideas, research, spell work and effort by one of the Heads of House, who will be working as faculty advisor on this particular project alongside each team. For those of you looking to pursue masteries after graduation you will find that very often Master and apprentices work closely side by side on projects and this is opportunity for many of you to see such a close working relationship in action. This is a very exciting for all of us- a chance for all of us to expand our collective ideas and broaden our focus. I myself will be working with the Ravenclaw-Slytherin and Ravenclaw-Gryffindor pairs, however Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff pairs will be assigned to Professor Sprout. I am sure that all of the Heads are as excited by the prospect to mentor our NEWT students as much as I am!"

"Oh yeah, Snape is going to love this," Ron muttered. "A galleon says you have him over McGonagall- tough luck mate, you really hit the rock bottom of teammates on this one."

Harry grunted his agreement, he had no doubt that he would in fact be working with Snape, Malfoy and Neville- and what a strange world it was when he found that he didn't mind the idea of Snape at all and yet the idea of spending any amount of time with Neville set his teeth on edge. Things had certainly changed in the past year.

HPHPHP

Later that night found the three of them outside of Snape's office. Hermione was vibrating with nervous energy. Both Ron and he had tried to get her to eat something but she had been too sick with dread. She had quietly informed them that she had been up in the middle of the night because she had thrown up- a sign of morning sickness and now she was convinced that she was pregnant. Harry had told her to wait and find out the results of the potion before jumping to conclusions, while Ron had taken the different tact of assuring her that if she wanted to claim that he was the father as a Pureblood it would be harder to argue his claim because Purebloods were rarely questioned about who they claimed as potential heirs. Hermione had looked rather overwhelmed by this pronouncement and been nearly silent since then.

"Hermione... if you would rather me not be in there, I understand," Ron told her just before they were set to knock on Snape's door. "You only just told me about it and if you would rather I wait in the Common Room I will- whatever makes this easier."

Hermione shook her head, "no...no if you don't mind I would rather you be there."

Ron nodded and grabbed hold of her hand, "Snape couldn't throw me out."

"Let's not make that a challenge shall we?" Harry commented before knocking.

"Enter," Snape called out curt as ever.

Once inside Snape raised an eyebrow at Ron's sudden inclusion in their meeting, "nice of you to remember that you have friends with actual problems Mr. Weasley. I was under the impression that you were currently too concerned trying to learn to breathe exclusively through your nose with Miss Brown."

Ron's ears colored and Harry glared at Snape. "Hermione wanted him here, I don't see why it's a problem," Harry said mildly, trying hard to keep the situation as calm as possible. Ron and Snape each had volatile tempers and while under normal circumstances Snape's status as a professor was enough to keep Ron under control he was currently at his limit with concern with Hermione. The wrong comment could set him off.

"I was merely expressing my... admiration for Miss Granger's tolerance of her friend's... mistakes. Most people would not be so understanding of a friend that had disappointed them in a time of need."

Harry laid his hand on Ron's shoulder before he could protest. "There's all kinds of reasons why we fail our friends from time to time... real friends forgive each other. What's a friendship really worth if it's over because of one fight, even if it's a big one?"

Ron gave a ghost or a grin, "or a couple hundred small ones."

Harry couldn't be sure, he was never good at reading Snape's face, but he appeared even more pale than usual. His skin waxy and eyes dark with some kind of emotion- regret... longing? And Harry wondered if Snape perhaps he regretted a moment when he had been unable to forgive someone close to him. After all, Harry knew firsthand how the man could hold onto his grudges, how they consumed him.

"Let's get this over with shall we?" Snape said curtly, his usual bite absent in respect to Hermione for the time being.

All three of them nodded. "You'll be happy to know that all of test results came back negative, no diseases of any kind were spread."

Hermione let out a shuddery breath but nodded her understanding and Ron gave her a one armed hug and a softly spoken, "that's really good," into her hair.

Snape drew another blood sample and at this point Hermione's own nervousness was catching. Ron's leg was jiggling, and he was shifting back and forth so much that Hermione was swaying with him, and Harry himself resisted the urge to start pacing back and forth. There were a terse three minutes of silence while they waited for the results. Harry kept thinking he should say something, something reassuring or comforting but he could think of nothing. He noticed Ron open his mouth twice only to close it again silently and Hermione was so pale that Harry was worried that she was in danger of fainting.

"It's negative," Snape announced in his silky voice. "There is no need to worry about pregnancy."

Ron was hugging Hermione so tightly that he picked her off the ground while Harry sat down rather hard on a desk, his knees feeling weak. In spite of his assurances to Hermione he too had been worried that she had been right to say that things often didn't turn out well.

"What...how... I'm not..." Hermione babbled incoherently. "But...but professor I haven't... and last night I was throwing up... how can I not be..."

"My first guess would be stress, which can do extreme things to the human body... my second..." here Snape gave an uncharacteristic pause. "Miss Granger you have told me that you have not received any counselling or even sought out medical attention prior to seeing me. I cannot be certain at this time but there is a condition known as hysterical pregnancy. It usually occurs when a woman desires a child very much but is unable to conceive and therefore her- or even in some cases his- mind will replicate the symptoms of a pregnancy. I suppose if you were truly concerned about the possibility of being pregnant your mind could have done the same to you. Of course I can't be sure on such a thing but again I urge you Miss Granger to speak to someone about your experience. And to turn in the guilty party for appropriate punishment. Closure goes a long way to getting over traumatic events."

Hermione looked rather startled at the idea that her mind could have come up with such a thing all on its own- her mind, after all, was the thing that Hermione had always counted on the most. Logical, precise, knowledgeable- there were many things in the world that Hermione had had to worry about but her own sense of logic and cool thinking had never before been one of them.

"Yes sir... I'll think about what you said. I- I did feel better once I told Harry and Ron... and even you. At first I didn't want anyone to know but... I'm beginning to see that it's not as bad as I thought it would be. Talking about it."

Snape nodded at her and Harry gave her a hug. "I'm glad that you're alright Hermione," he whispered to her.

Ron and Hermione took their leave but Harry had other business to attend to for the moment, his friends would always come first but he still had a war to deal with.

"Professor... we need to talk about the Shield of Slytherin."

Snape gave him an appraising look and Harry half expected the usual response of being told that it was none of his business, that the Order would be taking care of it and Harry should concentrate on school work. Instead, Snape seemed to weigh him in gaze a moment before saying, "Yes Potter, I believe that we do."

 **A/N: Thanks for the reviews and sorry for the delay again. This is a really busy time of year for me and I wasn't sure how much about the objects I should put in one chapter.**

 **Hope you liked the conversation/reconciliation between Harry, Ron and Hermione- I personally enjoyed it a lot. I've really wanted all of the characters to grow in this story and I feel that this chapter shows how far they have come. All of them have been through major changes and while for a time that drew them apart, in reality it will make their friendship stronger in the end.**

 **And I know a couple of you were worried about the going down a pregnant Hermione route but I agree- it really isn't necessary to the story but I thought the scare was a good means of finally getting Harry to turn to Snape.**

 ***Hysterical pregnancy is a real condition and can actually affect men in some cases (that wasn't a fanfic mpreg reference)**

 **Suggestions for how to punish McLaggen are welcome (and encouraged because I really don't know yet)**


	35. In the Snake Pit

**Chapter 35: In the Snake Pit  
Interlude: Daphne**

Daphne entered the Common Room in ill temper. She had received a letter from her father discussing his ongoing trouble with her Uncle Stanard. The Greengrass' had done a marvelous job of remaining delightfully neutral in the last two major Wizarding Wars and developed a reputation for steadfast business and political ambiguity. They were not bigoted enough to offend the Muggleborns or their supporters but at the same time they made it clear that they were proud of their Pureblood heritage and culture so as to satisfy the supremacists and even the Death Eaters.

Their carefully constructed neutrality was not seen as threat by either side and turned out to be quite profitable as they were one of the few businesses that both sides had felt comfortable working with as there was no threat of the Greengrass' potentially plotting against them. Although the family had been subjected to accusations of cowardness and opportunism, privately the family had sat smugly as their fortunes increased alongside their own feelings of security in a time when one had been safe. The Death Eaters were at constant risk of being taken out or imprisoned by the Aurors and everyone had feared You-Know-Who's wrath. The Greengrass' would never be known for their zealous feelings for a cause or even their steadfast loyalty- but they celebrated for their cold pragmatism in the face of extreme adversity.

However, in his rush to gain approval and possible promotion within the Ministry as well as the chance of finally get out from under the shadow of his more impressive _younger_ brother, Stanard had as good as aligned himself with Harry Potter, the veritable lightning bolt in the midst of the storm of conflict. And now, evidently, he was he was creating a path directly towards utter ruin.

There had been threats made to Stanard, which had resulted to threats to the rest of the family and, perhaps even worse in her father's eyes, his business partners were unhappy with the new scrutiny the family was under. The former guarantee that all deals made with the Greengrass' and their money, their goods and their contacts were all safe, was now in jeopardy. Martell Greengrass was not a forgiving man when it came to any disruption to his agenda and the tensions in the family had been steadily rising.

Daphne made her way over to the corner where Tracy Davis and Theo Nott were playing chess- a game that both were so evenly matched in that their games were known to last for days at a time. "What's wrong?" Tracy asked, glancing first at Daphne's obviously troubled expression and then to the letter in her hands. Daphne shook her head and smiled briefly, "nothing that serious. Just my father's continued disappointment that he only has daughters. I believe that he would feel a lot more comfortable with our position if he knew that he had a 'proper heir'."

She rolled her eyes, Martell Greengrass had been a doting and even indulgent parent to his two daughters, but he had never made it a secret that it was motivated by the fact that he believed that daughters _needed_ coddling in ways that sons did not. A son that would be able to carry on the family name along with the business. Daphne had never doubted that her father loved her, but he had also made it abundantly clear that he had little respect for her, or faith in the contributions she would make to the family.

Tracy looked relieved at her news and Theo gave a stiff nod but said nothing- perhaps worried that given his own family situation his words might not be well received- and Daphne knew from their reactions that both of them had assumed that she had gotten devastating news in the letter. A death, a disappearance, a family member that was now unable to string more than a few words together after the Death Eaters were through with them.

In the last few weeks it had all started to become alarmingly commonplace for students to receive such missives from home. Luke Smith from Hufflepuff's mother had been killed, as had Sue Gracely from Ravenclaw's father. The _Daily_ _Prophet_ had been reporting new horrors daily- murders of prominent family members that had been vocal against Him in the Wizengomot, muggles that had been murdered by the score-ehat had started over the Winter Break as an escalation of hostilities that many had cautiously hoped had been a brief flare of violence and things would settle back down, had quickly become the frightening reality of war. It had started with the shocking news that the Dark Lord had seized control over an entire town and no one had been able to breach its defenses. There was rumored to be an impenetrable magical protection that no one had been able to get past and the muggles of the town were now enslaved or else otherwise being degraded in ways that no newspaper was willing to print.

The school had been noticeably subdued since these events and even the usually ridiculously rambunctious Gryffindors had been forced to act with restraint and something that they no doubt thought passed for decorum.

"Are you worried about your Uncle?" Tracy asked, concerned.

Daphne frowned, "I was when these raids started, he was with Potter at the Summit after all and now everyone's been going crazy about the deal that was made with the Dark creatures." Potter's deal with the Ministry and the International community had been groundbreaking to most of the Slytherins who had been raised on the idea that wizards would never (not to mention _should_ or _could_ never) successfully negotiate with creatures like vampires and werewolves. They were too dangerous, too unknown and too hard to control. The Dark Lord's power kept them in check when they worked for him but most wizards didn't trust them enough to even broach a deal. No one had really thought that they would make an alliance with the Ministry, and when Potter had done the impossible, Daphne's father had been certain that Stanard would pay the price for associating with the Dark Lord's greatest enemy.

But then nothing's happened. Which was both a relief and very suspicious.

"It seems to me that if someone was going to come after him to set an example about working with Potter, they would have done it. His House is warded, of course, but nothing strong enough to keep the Dark Lord out if he wanted to make a point. Which makes me think that something else might be going on," she admitted quietly.

She glanced at Theo, knowing that at times his father kept him updated in major shifts or plans from the Dark Lord, but he only shook his head. "Father has been...quiet about everything," he told them, his face thoughtful. He couldn't say anything definitive in the Common Room, where he could be overheard. No matter what the other Houses tended to think, Death Eater business was not something anyone spoke about in the open in Slytherin House. Despite their reputation, not everyone in the House had parents that were among the Dark Lord's most loyal, nor even among his followers at all, and no one could risk having the illegal affiliation revealed to Dumbledore or the Ministry.

Daphne had been wondering for quite a while about what Uncle Stanard was up to. No one in the family could understand why he had agreed to represent the Ministry when the prudent course of action was to bide their time. Even if he had wanted to break with tradition and made a definitive alliance, how could he do that without first having a better idea of which side would win?

The truth was, until recently the real threat that of the coming war was just that- more threat than substance. Obviously the Dark Lord had been formidable but that was also over a decade before hand. Had he returned at full power or was his mystique now more powerful than the actual wizard? Of course, that would have been much easier to judge if the war had started when it was supposed to have started- the night of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Unfortunately the Ministry was run by a bunch of incompetent morons that were far too concerned with public relations and stop-gap problem solving than actual solutions.

While Daphne had at first thought that Potter had been just as insane as the papers made him out to be, her opinion had been swayed after reading the _Quibbler_ article. She, like most people, had been unable to escape the obvious. The Ministry could only blame so much on Sirius Black without sounding like paranoid conspiracy theorists. The truth had to be something much more sinister and as much as Potter's wild story about an alive Peter Pettigrew, kidnap, blood resurrection and graveyard duels was crazy to consider, there was an unmistakable ring of truth to it as well. The irony of finding the truth in Lovegood's tabloid was rather funny though if truth be told.

"What do you think your Uncle is really after?" Theo asked.

Daphne pursed her lips, "I think he's after a power play for control over the family business. Daddy is the main shareholder, even though he's the younger son and technically it's supposed to be a shared venture, according to my grandfather's will that is. Daddy has always said that grandfather thought that Stanard lacked vision which is why he didn't want to leave him in charge, I imagine this his attempt at finding it."

Tracy raised an eyebrow but her look seemed to imply that the idea wasn't wrong.

There was a slam of the portrait and Draco Malfoy stormed into the room in a temper. He looked out over the room before stomping over to Amilynn Rossier, a quiet but intelligent Seventh Year that liked to keep her business to herself. The two disappeared into one Draco's dormitory to talk privately.

"What do you think that was about?" Tracy asked in a low whisper.

Theo had a thoughtful look on his face as though he had his suspicions. "Do you think... is it about the Dark Lord?" Daphne asked in a near whisper. Despite the fact that Theo was probably her best friend aside from Tracy, his knowledge about (and very possible future) participation in Death Eater activities was something that was never really discussed between the two of them.

Alexander Nott had been a faithful follower of the Dark Lord since his early twenties when the dark wizard had risen to power the first time, in fact Daphne had once heard that he had been among the earliest supporters. Alexander was a fervent believer in blood supremacy and felt that the current Ministry had held wizards back from achieving their full potential for years. Daphne was sure that he had been among the many that had secretly been waiting and hoping for the Dark Lord's return ever since he had first fallen, never truly believing that his powerful master was gone for good.

However, the man was not blind to the fact that his family could best be protected if their interests were well covered. And, like any good Slytherin, the best way to protect those interests was by gathering information. He had tasked his son with finding out exactly how powerful an enemy Harry Potter was and was likely to become- and Theo had taken an interesting approach to the mission.

When Theo had revealed that he needed to get to know Potter better to herself and Tracy on the train ride to Hogwarts, the strangest part, at first, was the realization that in spite of the fact that they had shared classes with Potter for five years, they actually didn't know him that well. Of course they had read about him in the papers. They had seen him on the Quidditch pitch or trading insults (and winning more often than not) with Malfoy. But as they had sat down to truly discuss what he was like as a person they had fallen short. The only thing they knew of interest was the strange fact that the reality of Harry Potter was simultaneously more disappointing and yet somehow more surreal than the legend.

The 'battle simulation' in the beginning of the year had been Potter's first test, one that the Gryffindor had passed in better form than any of them had really expected. They had expected him to be a good fighter, after all there was no use denying the fact that Potter was quick with a wand and powerful to boot. But they had expected him to be too brass, too reckless and most of all, too over-confident. Potter had always struck Daphne as the type to find a galleon on the street and then brag that he was excellent at making money. He confused luck with skill, and power with precision.

But Potter had a way of actually seeing the weaknesses of a situation. He hated uniformity and unlike most people, Potter did not do something simply because someone in authority told him to, or even because it was the accepted way of doing things. He did what he thought would work best in the situation and was a good enough leader to listen to his team to determine what that action would be.

What had surprised Theo most of all though was the fact that he had found that he actually liked the Gryffindor. Potter was funny. He was loyal. He put in the hard work despite being named the leader- or perhaps because he was named the leader- which was something that the other boy had not been prepared for. Potter was smart too, when he talking about something that he knew, and honest enough to know when they were discussing something that he didn't.

Daphne had not been won over as easily. She had been determined not to fall under the 'Potter Spell' that seemed to trap most of the wizarding world at one time or another. She had been hard on him during their study sessions, demanding that she take the lead in the majority of their projects and had been strangely disappointed when he had not risen to her bait.

But as the year passed she was finding it harder to come up with reasons why he was undeserving of his fame and popularity. Chief among those reasons was how he had chosen to handle his Quidditch team after they had attacked her cousin and the other younger years. And she wasn't the only one that had been impressed by the way he had swallowed his pride and apologized to them all. The night after Potter's announcement had been interesting in the Common Room to say the least.

Theo was still looking over at where Draco had disappeared to for a moment before saying quietly, "Malfoy's been given a job to do. I don't know what it is but I think he's having trouble with it. And the longer that goes on…" he paused as though weighing his words before saying. "No one has seen his Mum in months. I don't know if they're holding her over his head, or she left after Lucius was busted and sent up to Azkaban, but I do know that Draco doesn't have a lot of options."

Daphne lifted an eyebrow at that pronouncement. She described her relationship with the Malfoy Heir as 'delicate'. The Malfoy family exuded wealth and exerted power when necessary but she had also always found Draco to be immature, spoiled and far too entitled by his family's status for her own tastes. Draco didn't like to have friends, instead he demanded followers and Daphne had been clear that she had no intention of being anyone's hanger-on.

"Rossier is brilliant at Charms," she mused idly, "wonder if he needs her help with something."

"I would say that Draco needs more help than realizes," Theo commented solemnly. "This isn't something his Daddy can come and save him from. Malfoy's always been too full of himself but it was different when he was just running roughshod over the Common Room and picking fights with Potter. Potter is not only held in check by the school but is also decent enough of a person to not thoroughly destroy his schoolboy rival simply because he could and wants to set an example. Malfoy is in over his head on this one."

Daphne felt a twinge of sympathy for her classmate. Malfoy had been an annoying, overly spoiled child and grown into a fairly incompetent young man. He did well enough in his classes but nothing spectacular or even worthy of note.

He was bad at reading people and worse at making them want to work for him. His major assets were his family's money and position and yet he was ineffective at making the most of either. People followed him out of obligation or else because they knew that it suited their purposes- not because they truly wanted to. Granger and Weasley would have dived in front of an Avada Kedevra without a second thought for Potter, she was sure of that, and in spite of their current childish behavior over the stupid Quidditch Cup, she knew that most of Gryffindor would charge into battle right behind Potter as well. Draco had had visions of dominating their generation but was fundamentally lacking in the skills to do so.

Daphne sighed to herself and wondered when she had started going soft. In the beginning of the year she would have been not only happy that Draco was finally discovering that he was not quite the next-Merlin his parents had seemed to instill in him when he had been a child but also pleased that a powerful figure in the House was losing power. Power ebbed and flowed and when it left one person it was all the more easily gained by another.

She suspected that she had been spending too much time around Harry Potter and his Gryffindor ways. When Draco came back into the Common Room she beckoned him over with a twitch of her fingers, much to Tracy's surprise and Theo's bemusement. While she and the Malfoy heir had never been enemies, they had never been known to spend much time in one another's company either. She could see immediately that Draco too was surprised by the gesture but hid it quickly in favor of looking coolly indifferent.

"Greengrass?" he asked.

"I think you and I can help one another in a few ways."

Draco arched his eyebrow at her, "how so?" Daphne smiled, perhaps it was time to take into account what the Sorting Hat had told her when she had sat with it before being paired with the epitome of all Gryffindors. She could only hope that her instinct was right and Draco had in fact changed enough for her little deal to work out best for them both.

HPHPHP

It was the morning of the Hufflepuff-Gryffindor match and there was an unusual tension in the atmosphere that morning. Daphne generally had little interest in the Wizarding World's premier sport and pastime, finding it barbaric and juvenile, but she couldn't deny that the events surrounding this particular match had caught her interest- and her money bag's attention.

Daphne walked down to the pitch alongside Tracy Davis with unusual enthusiasm for the upcoming match. Normally Theo might have accompanied them if he wasn't splitting his time with Draco and his lot as he did from time to time but today she had been surprised to learn that he had taken on a different seating arrangement to go alongside his new role. She had been surprised that he would want something so far into the spotlight as Theo tended to prefer to remain largely in the shadows, but perhaps this was his newest way of remaining in Potter's orbit.

"And it's a great day for a match, the weather has warmed from the arctic blast that we had last week," Seamus Finnegan' s voice carried over the din of noise from the stands. "The sun is out for the first time in months and usually that would be a sign that we are in for a nice long match-up but Potter has decimated his chances by suspending his Keeper, Beater and two Chasers. Gryffindor's only chance is to catch the Snitch and catch it quickly."

"Which is the perfect time to remind you all that as of close of breakfast this morning, all bets on the match are final. The leading wager is of course a Gryffindor win in a match that must last over 3 hours, with odds running at 12 to 1."

"Nott!" McGonagall shouted as she proceeded to tell him off for endorsing gambling on school grounds. For the first time, Hogwarts was offering two commentators, and from Slytherin and Gryffindor at that, and Daphne was wondering how anyone thought that that would be a good idea.

Finnegan was currently complaining about the fact that the new Chasers were a Third Year and a Second Year, both girls, both good fliers but neither aggressive. The Beater that Potter had chosen was a skinny little Fifth Year that looked closer to 12 than 16 and as for Potter's shocking pick for Keeper, both Theo and Finnegan were critical of the lithe Fourth Year boy, Eric Lumon, that had, from all accounts that Daphne had heard, not shown nearly as well at trials as Cormac McLaggen.

"Personally I think I speak for most Gryffindors when I say that it's clear that Potter is assembling a young team that won't question his leadership rather than run the risk of having a seasoned player like McLaggen steal the spotlight from a captain that has more than a few questionable decisions."

There was a roar of approval from the crowd as well as a few jeers aimed at Potter, who had only now come onto the pitch and was leading his rather clumsy lineup to their positions for the start. "They talk about Gryffindor bravery... benching half your team because they were acting like a bunch of jackasses took a lot of balls, more than the rest of that sorry House has put together," Tracy muttered into Daphne ear. While the usual pre-game hostilities had been largely muted due to the events outside the castle, the Gryffindors had made it clear that they were still upset with their captain. They had cold and brutal in their treatment towards their purported Chosen One, and real irony of it all was that Potter had been so busy in the past week working to save their pathetic asses from an actual threat that Daphne wasn't even sure that he had fully noticed.

But just because the Gryffindors were hypocrites didn't mean that the Slytherins had completely forgotten their own points of pride. Daphne shot her a wry look. "If someone from our House did that you would have crucified them. In the past couple weeks it suddenly seems like when it comes to Potter you can only see the very best, seems to me... that you have a soft spot for the Golden Boy," Daphne smirked.

Much to her surprise, Tracy made no move to deny such a claim, instead she raised an eyebrow and answered coyly, "and why wouldn't any girl with half a brain feel the same? Potter is, and I say this without exaggeration, the most powerful wizard Hogwarts has seen in the last 10 years, at least, he's rich, he's famous, he is never boring and... he's bloody well gorgeous now that he actually has an ounce of fat on those skinny ribs of his. Face it Daph, to say he's top of the pack is an exercise in understatement."

"Gorgeous?" Daphne asked skeptically, if only because that was the only claim that the other girl had made with any doubt to it at all.

Tracy grinned, "Well cute with rapid approach to gorgeous. That boy still has some growing to do but he is doing it up right. And I'm willing to bet in _all_ the right places too."

Daphne chuckled as they watched the toss up to begin to match.

There were a few more comments made about the superiority of McLaggen to Eric Lumon and a chorus of jeers.

"What do you make of that?" Draco's voice came from behind her left shoulder, causing her to jump in surprise. Tracy smacked him in the arm, "git! Give a girl some warning that you're there!"

Draco winced at the hit before shrugging, "pay attention to your surroundings and you won't be so surprised," he said simply. "Now answer the question, what do you think of the fact that Potter picked Lumon when he _should_ have picked McLaggen. Potter might be a sentimental fool but he's not a complete moron and he might have suspended the players for fighting because he's a walking saint but he still wants to have a chance of winning."

Tracy shrugged and echoed the popular theory of the school, though with a noticeable lack of conviction behind her words. "Potter either didn't want to run the risk of McLaggen taking over his team or he's saving the spot for Weasley."

Draco pursed his lips but said nothing for a moment, "Daph? You've been working with boy wonder all year, that sound like him?" Their new partnership in mind Daphne considered the question.

And she knew where Draco was headed. "No. I don't think that Potter is worried for a minute that McLaggen is actually going to be able boss him around on his own team, no matter how much he might try. Potter's not afraid of Cognac McLaggen of all people and he might be loyal to Weasley but he's too honest and noble to fix a spot on the team for him if he doesn't deserve it." She had learned that after the way Harry had blown up with in their argument the day after the werewolf treaty. The fact that he had not thrown Ginny Weasley off his team entirely after what she bad done to him showed that he was better person than she would have been if their situations were reversed."

Draco nodded, looking thoughtful. "My thoughts exactly. Which means whatever his reason is for refusing to put McLaggen on the team is, it's personal."

Pansy Parkinson leaned over at this point, jumping into the conversation, "a little birdie told me that Potter shouted out in front of the entire House that he wouldn't put McLaggen on the team over his dead body, and from the way I heard it, it wasn't going to be Potter's body anyone had to worry about," she chuckled as she said this. Pansy was an incorrigible gossip and the only thing she enjoyed more than hearing people's secrets was telling them.

Tracy's eyes were scanning the crowd but stopped when they landed on Granger and Weasley. "Well, why would Potter have a problem with McLaggen, do you think?" she asked.

"Hermione Granger took him to Slughorn's party," Daphne remembered, thinking back to that night. She too had been in attendance, though she had left rather early.

"Lover's spat?" Pansy asked with glee.

Daphne rolled her eyes, "Potter doesn't care about her like that, and besides he was still with Weasley at the time. No this... this is about how McLaggen treated her. And it must have been bad, Granger has been quiet, withdrawn..." she trailed off as the implications of such behavior fell into place. It was no secret that Cormac McLaggen was a misogynistic thug who was capable of violence. Ordinarily she would never have thought that he could have gotten the drop on a witch as skilled as Granger but anything was possible in the heat of the moment.

The others followed Tracy's eye line as well as the others seemed to draw similar conclusions. "How bad do you think he hurt her? And if he did, why haven't they told anyone?" Malfoy asked, his voice quiet but also thoughtful, as though carefully considering all of his options.

"My guess would be bad, so bad that Granger doesn't want anyone to know. But Weasley must have found out, the two of them haven't been talking for weeks and now she's sitting with Ron and Lavender." It was actually a fairly odd sight. Weasley still had his arm around his pseudo-girlfriend or whatever the hell was going on in that situation but now Granger was sitting near them as well.

"And it seems that Gryffindor is doing all they can to make the best of this crippled team. Potter has designed a completely defensive strategy, let's see if it's enough to hold off this stronger offense," Finnegan's voice interrupted their musings and the conversation fell to the wayside. At the moment she and Draco had aligning interests- primarily helping their families survive this conflict no matter what the cost. Daphne had been raised with the idea of family first, everyone else second. She did not really support the ideas of the Dark Lord and yet if it meant the difference between keeping herself and family safe or having them all die- she would not oppose him.

At the moment it was in both her and Draco's best interest to learn as much about Potter as possible and see what the logical next step would be. Potter was erratic and emotional. She doubted that he had any long term plans in play- he was boy that thrived on second to second chaos. A perpetual game of catch up which was not the way she liked to do things. Make a plan, follow through and be patient- those were the traits of proper Slytherin. However, in spite of her instinct to shun Potter and his messy methods, she couldn't deny that there was something that drew her towards him. A trait that Potter possessed that encouraged people to believe that he would succeed if no other reason than because he had the power and drive- and perhaps even just the insane luck- to make the impossible happen.

But they would not rely on faith and hope alone to carry them through this war. She and Draco had agreed to pool their information and properly assess the situation and while she wasn't sure what Draco's true objective was at the moment- she was beginning to suspect that was looking more for strengths for an alliance than she was searching out weaknesses of her enemy.

When they could glen no further speculation about the McLaggen situation, they returned their collective attention aback to the game, which was not as fast or nearly as exciting as a normal match. The Hufflepuffs had assembled a weak team and obviously the Gry's were too inexperienced to do anything other than the most basic of plays. Katie Bell was the only player of any talent other than Potter and the two of them were fighting a battle against not only their opponent but their incompetent teammates as well.

"And that is another bludger hit that Potter has taken for his Chasers, where is Sloper?" Theo's voice stretched across the field and Daphne detected equal parts admiration and disgust from the Slytherin with the beating that Potter had been taking all game. He had been leading Smith around the pitch like a dog on a leash and even with Daphne' s limited Quidditch knowledge or appreciation she had to admit that it was with deft skill that Potter was not only dominating the Seeker role but had also stepped in as impromptu Beater when the others weren't up to the job.

Without an actual bat, Potter had been using his body to block bludger after bludger for his Chasers. For Bell it was so she could actually do something for the team, for the other two... seemingly out of simple kindness for the two younger girls alone because they certainly weren't making an actual contribution. Nevertheless, Potter was relentless in the way he took hit after hit- the sound echoing with the groans from the increasingly sympathetic crowd.

"And after two hours the score is 50 to 20, Hufflepuff, with Gryffindor showing a much better Defense than projected," Finnegan announced, tone now more admiring than scathing of his own teams performance. In fact all of the fickle Gryffindors had been coming around for the past hour as they watched the Captain that they had ridiculed and often pranked for the past month step up for the role that they needed from him.

Potter went into a steep dive, his broom vertical with the ground as he plummeted at inhuman speed, and now both commentators were screaming that the Snitch had been spotted, Smith right on Potter's heels despite having started out below him when Potter had taken off like a bullet. The crowd was roaring, not a single seat was occupied as the stadium jumped up in excitement. And inches from the ground… Potter pulled up, toes skimming the grass, and there was an almighty crash as Smith failed to correct himself and drove straight into the earth.

"A perfect Wronki Feint ladies and gentlemen, we haven't seen one like that outside the National teams!" Finnegan was screaming as the crowd, even a few Slytherins, shouted their excitement. With Potter's unexpected action of punishing his team for the fight, he had gotten quite a few supporters within the House who were now free to cheer openly for the Seeker. To the rest of Houses this might look like a dig to the suspended team members but Daphne knew that there were many in the House that were quite happy to finally be able to openly celebrate the most skilled Quidditch player in the school. Potter had quite a few fans in Slytherin- particularly in the younger years- but they had never openly voiced their support before.

Smith was dazed and needed to be taken care of by Madame Pomfrey for the moment. It wasn't clear if he would be returning to the match or not yet but usually this was a time when Seekers would use the unobstructed time to search even more diligently for the Snitch but Potter seemed wholly unconcerned with actually doing his job as Seeker and was instead running a block for Bell so that she was able to score, and setting a pick for his other Chasers so they could get in the proper position.

"And we are now at the 3 hour mark and Gryffindor is officially at a 10 point lead!" Theo yelled out, and Daphne saw that his gaze was fully on Potter in that moment, who suddenly and drastically changed style in flight.

No more was Potter playing willing punching bag for the bludger but instead was concentrated fully on his task. Smith had returned to the match, apparently against medical advice, and was looking dazed and ineffectual. His flight slow and clumsy compared to Potter's fluid and graceful movements that continued to weave him in and out of plays even as he searched.

It wasn't long before Potter was streaking across the field, his red and gold uniform blurring in her vision as he triumphantly grabbed the snitch. It wasn't an exciting capture but it was designed to prove a point. Harry had purposely delayed catching the snitch until not only was the game well underway and traditionally the role of the Seeker became less important or game changing but had also ensured that Gryffindor had also maintained a legitimate lead with the quaffle. It was a signal to his banished teammates that he didn't truly need them to win and a stubborn knock to the rest of his House for giving him so much trouble over his decisions when he had had the situation well in hand. In short- Harry Potter had truly dominated the game and Daphne found herself revising the idea that Potter never made long term plans.

Daphne met Theo down at the pitch and was soon accompanied by Potter and his two perpetual sidekicks. "Pay up Nott," Potter announced with a grin.

Theo shook his head but was clearly pleased. "I made a bloody fortune on you."

"Likewise," Weasley chimed in with a large smile on his face.

Granger pursed her lips in stern disapproval as gambling was against school rules and Daphne knew that a part of the girl was dying to deduct points, though in spite of her dower expression, her lips twitched slightly and Daphne suspected that Granger was in fact rather delighted with how things had turned out.

"How much money did we wind up with?" Potter asked.

"The odds wound up coming in at 12 to 1- we're the only three that gambled on a victory over the 3 hour mark- though a Gryffindor win with a Snitch catch under 30 minutes was the favorite to win so despite the shit people have been giving you Potter most people were still convinced that you were actually going to win."

Potter nodded, "they were just worried about the point spread. Luckily I have Ron to cover that problem. Though in the future, I would rather not be your human Beater bat thank you."

"That was your idea Weasley?" Nott asked surprised.

The ginger frowned, "always the tone of surprise. I've been following Quidditch for years, I know how to write plays. And with a wanker like Smith as your rival Seeker I figured it would easiest just to have Harry run the field in two positions. Smith likes to tail Harry because he can't bloody find the Snitch on his own, but also can't move like Harry in the air- regardless of what broom he has."

"Ron's brilliant at strategy," Potter confirmed as he pounded his friend on the back. "I told you that before the battle simulation. But in short, pleasure doing business. Wish I could say this was the easiest 100 plus galleons I've ever made but the bruises on my body don't believe that one. Hermione, you have any more of that bruise stuff you had?"

Granger rolled her eyes, "you could just go up to the Hospital Wing."

Potter grimaced, "and have Pomphrey give me the 'Quidditch should be outlawed and forgotten' speech again? No thanks. Besides I don't have time."

"The infamous Gryffindor victory party?" Daphne asked with genuine curiosity. Rumors of the parties that the Gryffindors threw were legendary among the other Houses. No one else wanted to admit it but it was well established that no one threw a wild party the way the House of the reckless did.

Potter shook his head, "nope, no time for that either though that might be blessing. A few people almost didn't survive the last one. Those poor First Years..."

Granger slapped his arm as Potter laughed giving them a wink. That was the other problem- most of went on in the parties in the Tower were closely guarded secrets. Rumors escaped but almost every Gryffindor refused to give details which only led to the mystique. It was the sneakiest the Gryffindors ever got.

"I have to meet with Professor Dumbledore, Dimitri is going to be there and- thank Merlin- so is Raymond. The Ministry is..." Potter shook his head in annoyance. "I'll see you on tomorrow afternoon for our project right?" Potter confirmed with her.

"I'll be there," she answered as Potter made his hurried way to the Headmaster's office, easily slipping from the role of school age Quidditch star into international diplomat and war leader.

HPHPHPHP

Daphne walked with Draco down to the Potions' classroom where they were set to meet Potter, Longbottom and Snape for their project. She had spent the last few minutes warning Draco against needlessly antagonizing the Gryffindors, particularly Harry. Not only was she not interested in spending hours playing referee between a bunch of testosterone driven boys that were all out to prove how much tougher they were than anyone else, if her alliance with Draco to find out more about Harry, to potentially use him as an ally or a shield when the time came, was to work than he could not alienate him any further than Draco had already managed. Especially when Draco and Neville competing against Potter in terms of power was fairly laughable.

"Don't assume I'm gonna cause trouble, I'm not 13 anymore, Daphne," the blond muttered irritably.

"That's right you're not but sometimes I get the feeling you forget that and I refuse to sit around while you deal with your juvenile insecurities." She informed bluntly.

Any response Draco might have had to that statement was cut off when they passed the door and saw that the room they had just entered was not in fact empty. Daphne was surprised to find Potter busily working at a desk, parchment and what looked like white paper covered with dozens of blue, straight lines strewn haphazardly around his desk. After working with him for several months Daphne was all too frustratingly familiar with the way Potter was usually just this side of actually tardy. He generally ran in just at the appointed meeting time, prompt enough to avoid an actual complaint or lecture but always late enough to gain her irritation.

"Answering fan mail, Potter?" Draco asked and sure enough Daphne could see that the Gryffindor was in the midst of writing half a dozen letters.

"Never thought I would ever be saying this, but I wish," Potter admitted with a tired sigh, pushing up his glasses up to rub his eyes. She thought back to Potter ranting at her in library about having so many things to do and the burden that was on him if he failed. With the recent attacks, Potter had been busier than ever and it certainly seemed to be weighing on him. She was suddenly even more gratified that she was warned Draco against needlessly instigating fights. "That would be a hell of a lot easier than trying to write to these diplomats. Or to my aunt for that matter," he added as an afterthought.

Daphne frowned slightly at that statement. Months earlier she had been more than a little thrown off balance when she had first seen the serious allegations that had been against Potter's muggle relatives printed out in the _Daily_ _Prophet_ for everyone to see. Much like every other pureblood child of their generation, Daphne had grown up hearing stories about the miraculous savior that was the Boy-Who-Lived. She had expected Harry Potter to grow up rich, spoiled and with the very best that the wizarding world had to offer to the boy that they were so grateful to. In retrospect, she should have seen all the signs. She had been disappointed when she had first laid eyes on the 'legendary boy savior' only to see him dressed in oversized, rag-thin muggle clothes that even a pureblood such as herself could see only poor street children should be wearing. He had possessed no more awareness of wizarding culture or tradition than the average muggleborn- and far less than Hermione Granger. He had been too skinny, too small, and entirely too... ordinary to hold any real fascination for her after all of the stories she had heard about him. In short, he had fallen well below expectations and she had been disappointed.

But nevertheless she had never imagined that the hero of their world was being routinely locked into boot cupboards, starved, beaten and worked like a House-elf. It was unconscionable. Unimaginable! And it left Daphne with a strange feeling of shame that their world could so easily forget about its most famous celebrity. A child. A young boy that they had all been happy to cheer and toast every year on Halloween or remember his birthday privately but when he had needed _them_ , they had all cheerfully abandoned him.

Still, the most surprising thing about the situation had been Potter's casual and yet matter-of-fact admission of the details. She would have expected anyone to either deny such claims out of pride or feelings of embarrassment, or else try and milk as much sympathy and pity from the situation as possible but Potter had done neither and quite unexpectedly Daphne had felt her respect for him grow with his show of resilience.

"I didn't think that you ever wrote to your muggle relations," she commented just as Longbottom finally made an appearance. He looked slightly surprised that he was in fact the last of them to arrive but came in quietly. She watched the way Longbottom skirted away from getting too close to Potter with interest. The story of the formerly-timid-and-shy boy's betrayal of his infinitely more powerful, and popular, friend had spread quickly around the school. The Slytherins had placed bets on exactly what curses Potter would hit him with and how long Longbottom was likely to stay in the hospital wing. And yet Potter had seemingly settled for a slow burn of guilt and what looked to skilled Slytherin eyes to be well placed but very subtle emotional manipulation. It was brilliant watching Longbottom squirm while Potter gained all of the sympathy from the Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs who simply could not condone such dishonest and dishonorable behavior.

Potter shrugged in response to her comment, "generally it's something I avoid. But she's been in hospital recovering from an attack over the summer and technically I'm the contact person. She had to write to me because she had a question about potential outpatient care since she's ready to go home but she still has to do some physical therapy on her leg...and she's had some counselling issues as well," he added hesitantly, his eyes flicking first to Draco and the over to Neville- neither of the boys was looking at him at the moment.

"Why are you the contact person and not your Uncle, shouldn't her husband be taking care of all that?"

"Not when Potter is footing the bill and taking care of the arrangements through his solicitor," Snape's voice answered smoothly.

Both boys looked at Harry with surprise at this pronouncement but once again Potter only looked back coolly, unaffected by their curiosity. The question of why Potter would be looking after his own guardians was something that apparently no one wanted to ask.

"Why is this later addressed to Elena?" Draco finally asked, picking up one of the oddly lined white papers.

Potter shrugged one again but this time there was a faint tinge of pink to his cheeks. "She's a friend," he answered shortly.

Daphne smirked at him, "well done Potter, hope she's better than that Weasley girl. She was a bit of twit," she added, glancing at Longbottom. She found herself a bit surprised by the feeling defensiveness she had recently come to feel for her partner. Despite the fact that working with him had been easier than she had thought it would be, she had always felt ambivalent towards him at best, but in the last few weeks, she had seen that he was a person that put what was right above just about anything else, who worked himself to the bone for his teammates, and who genuinely did his best with everything that he did… she found that she had grown fond of him. Inordinately fond is him if truth be told.

"Enough idle chit chat. You all can use your spare time to discuss the merits of Potter's tragic life another time and his love life after that. Now that we've all here, I can explain your task. Your assignment is to find a unique piece of architecture within Hogwarts study the magic behind it and then be able to replicate it."

Daphne mentally groaned, replicating spells was advanced Arithmancy work, a subject she was good at but was not her favorite by any means. She was, however, the only NEWT level student in the group. Draco had gotten an OWL in it but she was fairly sure it hadn't been much above an Acceptable and Potter and Longbottom had taken the Gryffindor route of class scheduling and done Divination and Creatures. They would be no help to her on this project.

"Most of Hogwarts is unique," Malfoy immediately argued.

"Should be easy than," Potter muttered.

"We need to pick something that not a lot of other people would think to notice," Longbottom reasoned and Daphne happened to agree with that sentiment.

"Perhaps one of the secret passages," Daphne suggested.

Potter shook his head, "Most people are going to do that. They're going to hear unique and they're going to associate it with secret," he trailed off before grinning widely, "Of course what we really need is a better secret. You want to talk about inter-House unity, how about a Gryffindor that can get you into the Slytherin Chamber of Secrets?"

Daphne looked at him wide eyed, Longbottom blinked in surprise, while Malfoy struggled not to look suitably impressed with such an offer. "We have to be able to replicate the magic, do you really think that any of us would be able to do anything close to building a secret chamber that was lost for nearly a thousand years?"

Potter shook his head, "we don't have to," he argued. "In the Chamber there's a giant Stone statue of Salazar Slytherin and his mouth opens when you speak to it, if we can make something like that, than no one is going to be able to find anything that's more unique."

It was true, while there were enchanted Coats of Armor and sliding walls, there were no automated stone statues. The closest thing available were the gargoyles in front of the Headmaster office, which could identify passwords but nothing else. The fact that the statues were roughly a thousand years old and apparently still in working order was even more impressive. Most things needed maintenance of some kind after several years had passed, but these enchantments were still holding strong. It would be difficult to break them down but Daphne felt confident in her ability to backtrack spells from effect.

"Can you study spells that you might not have learned yet?" Potter asked her, and she felt a bit smug that he had already assumed that the task of breaking down the spells involved would be falling to her. Then again perhaps it was obvious considering Potter clearly had no idea how to do it.

She nodded, "I should. Of course these spells might be archaic and if they use a completely different base component than I can't promise anything," she added honestly. No sense in being embarrassed later if she failed to perform.

"Alright, well I guess the only way to know for sure is to see for ourselves. Shall we go now, or should we plan for another day?" Potter faced tensed slightly as he mentioned another day and she guessed that he was mentally reviewing his diary- trying to figure out when he next had free and again she felt a swell of respect for how he managed being a full time student and what seemed to be a nearly full time diplomat these days.

"I have free now," Daphne offered and the rest agreed as well. Despite his cool facade, she suspected that even Professor Snape was excited to finally see the legendary Chamber of Secrets, it was after all the ultimate Slytherin achievement and a place every proud House member dreamed of discovering. It was fairly infuriating that the first person to find it was the most Gryffindor person to grace the halls of Hogwarts since Godric himself.

Potter led them all to the Second floor and towards the abandoned girl's bathroom.

"Where the hell are you taking us Potter?" Malfoy demanded.

Potter looked at the other boy with amusement. "To scandalous for you Malfoy? Not willing to enter the girls' room even if its the only known entrance to Slytherin's secret chamber?"

"How the hell did you find it in the girl's room? Secrets of your own Potter?" Draco shot back

"Never ask a question unless you are absolutely positive you want that answer to it Mr. Malfoy," Snape answered drily, causing Potter to glare at him.

"None of the girls use this bathroom, everyone knows that, which means..." he glanced at Snape as though just realizing the implications of admitting this to a teacher, "if you want to hide something, you can hide it here. Of course this was Second Year, my hiding places weren't that refined yet," he added with a shrug that looked a bit too casual but she suspected came more from the fact that Potter didn't have too many hiding spots than the fact that he did.

They entered the bathroom, a place that Daphne had only entered one other time and it took only seconds for her to remember exactly why it was that every girl in the school went to great lengths, even risking McGonagall's wrath when they were late to class due to their detours, to avoid this particular restroom.

"Hello Harry, it's been a long time. I thought that you had promised to visit me," Myrtle pouted. "And after I helped you out during that Tournament and everything. I don't think you ever would have known where to go down in that lake without me and now you're just like everyone else and avoid me."

"Right… sorry about that Myrtle," Potter answered awkwardly.

"If you've forgotten me I could visit you in the bath like that time in the Tournament," the ghost offered coyly and much to Daphne's amusement, Potter paled enough to nearly match her translucent tone.

"No thanks, I think that one time left a large enough mark on me to last a lifetime. We're just here to get into the Chamber of Secrets."

"Why would ever want to go down there again Harry? It's dirty and dark and it's just a terrible place. I thought that no one would ever want to go down there again. It's dangerous you know."

"School project. We won't be down there too long I don't think," Potter answered, before turning back to the rest of them. "But I probably should have warned you all, it is filthy down there and… it's a closed space. Some of the tunnels are rather tight," he explained, almost apologetically as though he were to blame for the Chamber's lack of comfortable décor.

Daphne rolled her eyes, "it's a thousand year old secret passage that was used first and foremost to hide a monstrous serpent, I wasn't expecting it to be comfortable."

Longbottom only nodded but after a moment Daphne noticed that both Snape and Potter were looking at Draco with varying degrees of concern. "Let's get this over with then," the blond answered, his voice tight with anxiety and it slowly dawned on her that her Housemate was not a fan of tight spaces. She was surprised to discover that not only did Potter know this information about his longtime rival but was kind enough to be concerned about it. She had an older cousin, more like an aunt, that suffered from the exact opposite fear- agoraphobia, and due to this she had stayed in her own house for near upon forty years before she had been able to leave. She doubted Draco's dear of small spaces was anywhere as extreme but she knew enough to know not to make light of seemingly innocuous fears.

Potter hissed, his words- whatever they were- directly at the sink.

"What did you say to get it to open?" she asked curiously. Even after Potter had found the hidden chamber that had been lost for centuries to wizard-kind, how had ever guessed the secret password to open it?

Potter grinned mischievously as he said, "I said ' _open_ '."

Daphne blushed, feeling embarrassed for not realizing that parseltongue was in fact its own passward and Longbottom blinked, a slight grin came over his face, causing him to turn quickly away from Potter, lest the other boy see his amusement. Draco though gave no indication of having heard the comment instead he was clenching and unclenching his fists as though to steel himself for their venture into the tomb.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Daphne finally asked, drawing Longbottom's attention for the first time- in classic Gryffindor oblivion to their surroundings that didn't involve any overt danger, Draco's partner had yet to notice his distress.

"Positive, let's get this finished shall we?" he answered with cool resolve. Daphne saw the pipe-slide that was supposed to lead them down to the Chamber and noticed that Potter had not been exaggerating, it was filthy. She quickly cast an Impervius Charm on herself- something Snape had already done and the others quickly followed her lead.

"Wish I had known this one in Second Year," Potter admitted wryly. "Or thought about doing now in Sixth…" he added with a hint of a blush that Daphne caught herself thinking was oddly endearing for someone admitting to being an idiot.

The journey down was terrifying and yet strangely exhilarating. Daphne had never been much for adventure. She had been raised with the idea that proper young girls did make a mess, didn't place themselves in situations that could get them into trouble and certainly didn't place themselves in danger. Even though they were doing a school project and were being accompanied by a professor, this was closest thing to being out-of-bounds she had ever been and for the first time she understood the appeal the Gryffindors had for getting into such ridiculous circumstances.

The tunnels were dark and, as Potter had warned, cramped, but they were at least tall enough to walk through. Though despite not having to stoop down, Draco was clearly uncomfortable the entire time. He was taking short, rapid breaths as though worried that the air was going to run out. He was purposefully walking a half dozen steps in front of everyone to give himself just a little more space, his posture ram-rod straight and muscles tense the whole time and although Daphne knew that Potter and even Longbottom usually walked a little faster, they were careful to allow the blond his needed distance.

That was until they reached a pile of rocks that had been dug through just enough to get rather small bodies through- 12 year old bodies if Daphne wasn't wrong.

"This is where Lockhart tried to wipe me and Ron's memories and leave us down here. But it backfired- he slammed into the tunnel and it collapsed."

"Alright Potter, I have to know- it's insane enough that you and Weasley decided to wage some sort of two person rescue mission against a killer beast when you were twelve and knew absolutely no magic that could possibly help you, but why in Merlin's name would you bring along the most useless professor that Hogwarts has seen in a decade?" Malfoy demanded, his discomfort with the situation making his words sharp and nasty.

"Indeed," Snape added, his eyebrow lifting slightly in query. "What did possess you to bring that buffoon down here?"

Potter flushed dully, "er… well funny thing actually… in retrospect I kind of chalk it up to… not fully understanding sarcasm?" he ended as though it were a question though obviously it wasn't.

"What?" Longbottom asked, breaking his self-imposed silent treatment towards the other Gryffindor.

Potter scratched the back of his head, clearly uncomfortable and embarrassed with what he was about to say. "So… Ron and I finally figured out what the 'monster' was and we were going to warn the teachers. Except that before we could say anything Ginny got brought down there and everyone was convinced that she was either dead already or else would be before anyone could do anything to help her. And then… er we were heard Professor Snape and McGonagall saying that Lockhart was the perfect man for the job and that he could take care of it. Obviously now…I realize that they were both making fun of the fact that he can't do anything properly but… we were twelve. And stupid. And we actually thought that they had left the job to him of all people."

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose at this explanation and Draco shook his head in disgust but Daphne found her lips twitching slightly.

"Shut it," Potter muttered but he was grinning a bit himself as though he could at least now see the humor.

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," Longbottom muttered, seemingly before thinking better of the words because he flushed slightly after they escaped his mouth.

"Honestly at the time… who was I really going to go to? Dumbledore was banished, McGonagall hadn't believe us First Year when we warned her about the Stone being stolen and everyone else…" Potter shrugged as though to say there weren't any other options and perhaps to a boy that had been shoved aside by his guardians his whole life, there really hadn't been. "It was stupid but at the time I honestly thought that we didn't have any other options so there you have it. It was either go after her ourselves or let Ginny die."

On that sobering thought, the turned to the task of clearing the tunnel. Considering that they were no longer Second Year dunces, the five of them were able to clear the tunnel of rocks in short order and they continued on to the main chamber- a place that was so large it looked as though the Great Hall could fit inside it.

"Oh fuck," Draco shouted out in surprise and Daphne mentally echoed his sentiments as she stared, wordlessly, at the gigantic snake-corpse in front them.

"I didn't know it was this big! This is…this is…" It was frighteningly large. Over sixty long and over ten in diameter, the snake could have eaten any one of them whole in a single bite. It was absolutely astonishing that anyone could have survived a fight against the enormous creature but the thought that a twelve year old- a boy that had been sharing classes with her and coming in behind her on just about every test they had ever taken, had killed was unbelievable.

Even Snape looked as though he was lost for words and Longbottom's jaw had dropped. Potter was studying the creature with a strange look on his face. She would have expected him to look boastful and proud of what he had done, or perhaps afraid as he remembered the experience but instead there was something that was close to sympathy for it though she didn't think that that was quite it.

"How…did you really stab it with Gryffindor's sword?" Longbottom finally asked.

Harry nodded, his expression distant. "It was luck mostly."

He turned his back abruptly on the large snake and turned towards the enormous statue of Salazar Slytherin. "That's it," Harry said unnecessarily. "Voldemort got it open by saying that he was the greatest of the Founders but I'm not sure if that was just him talking or a real password."

Snape nodded, seemingly academic but Daphne detected a flicker of excitement in the normally stoic man. They spent almost an hour studying the statue and making notes on some of the spells that they could find that would enable to stone structure to move and obey commands. It wasn't completely unique magic- several statues and figures in the wizarding world were used as sentinels for one place or another, but the sheer size is what made it impressive. Most wizards would be unable to enchant something so large and for so long. No one had updated the enchantments on the statue in centuries and yet they were still intact and functional.

They were finishing up and preparing to leave when things took a most unfortunate turn.

"What's this?" Longbottom asked finding a marking on the wall and touching it. There was a grinding of stone against stone as a wall shifted and all of them jumped back in surprise, Potter wincing slightly, his head going to his scar. There was a hissing from a engraved snake on the wall and Potter answered it without thought.

The wall responded and Potter nodded, hissing back once more. "It's Slytherin's...inner sanctum. His library, where he used to work on his research. Apparently Voldemort used to come down here all time, I'm guessing that's where he must have found a lot of the Dark Arts books that he used to rise to power."

"Because Slytherin's chamber must just be filled with the Dark Arts Potter?" Daphne asked in annoyance at the usual Gryffindor assumptions.

"Oh no I'm sure that he put all the Dark Arts books in the Hogwarts library only built a secret chamber that was protected by a deadly basilisk for studies on unicorns," Potter shot back rolling his eyes but he gave her an amused grin and showed there was no actual bite to his retort.

Snape was already pouring over the ancient texts, taking the time to carefully scan for curses or hexes before carefully taking out each on to look over. There was another hiss and Harry winced again, "Professor, you can look at the books but they can't be removed from the Chamber. They'll burn the moment they leave this hidden room."

Now that Daphne had made her way fully into the room she could see that was quite comfortable on the inside. There was an old desk, nothing stately or fashionable, more like a table and she remembered that the Chamber had been built long before even the baroque period that so many wizards were fond of imitating. There were chairs but nothing overly comfortable and a large array of books. The torches on the wall had flared to life when they entered.

"Hey look-"

"Don't!" Potter shouted out just Longbottom found another marking on the wall and just as he touched it the wall grinded quickly shut. There was more hissing and Potter's eyes were watering at this point after a moment there was silence before Potter's quiet voice said. "well shit."

"Explain Potter," Snape demanded.

"It was a trap. A security code or something but basically if you can't speak parseltongue- you can't get out until the next morning."

"So speak Parseltongue you idiot!" Draco yelled uneasily, he was panicking now that they were trapped in the room.

"I didn't touch the mark, so it doesn't matter. The stones will move when the sun rises."

"Well someone has to figure out that we're missing right?" Daphne asked thinking logically.

Potter shrugged, "Ron and Hermione will probably notice when I don't show up to dinner but they would never think that I came down here. Or anyone else for that matter. And considering the Chamber has been hidden for centuries, it well outside the control of the Headmaster's office. We're stuck," he added unnecessarily as he proceeded to sit down in the corner.

"That's it? For years you've been blundering around the castle getting out of ridiculous situations and now that we're trapped you're just going to sit down and give up? Are you kidding me?" Draco barked, his voice taking a rather manic quality to it.

Potter lifted an eyebrow, "there's nothing to figure out or stop Draco. The stone won't move and we'll all survive until the morning. We have about 12 hours, it could be worse," his voice sounded tired and laced with a bit of pain.

"Not all of us grew up being locked up in cupboards so much that we feel at home here Potter!"

"Malfoy!" Longbottom shouted clearly shocked that the Slytherin would bring Potter's childhood into this. Draco flushed slightly, uncharacteristically remorseful for his words but said nothing to take them back.

Potter glared at him but seemed to decide to let the matter drop.

"Are you alright?" Daphne finally asked because clearly Potter was in pain for some reason and it seemed to be related to the Chamber.

Potter sighed in irritation but it didn't seem to be directed at any of them. "My scar is connected to Voldemort, it's the reason that I can talk to snakes in the first place and it seems to be... reacting to be in here. Maybe it's because Tom Riddle spent a lot of time here."

"Who's Tom Riddle?" she asked.

Potter smirked in Draco's direction, "the half-blood raised in a muggle orphanage that changed his name to Lord Voldemort."

Draco was so startled that for a moment he genuinely forgot to be anxious and upset at his present situation. "Get the hell out of here Potter, that's ridiculous."

"Oh its true alright, though don't go asking your aunty Bellatrix, she didn't believe me either last year when I had it out with her. I suppose he just shares more with me than he does his Death Eaters, which really says a lot about a person, don't you think?"

She and Draco exchanged long looks, both thinking through the implication of the Dark Lord being an half-blood and neither truly knowing what to say.

After a few minutes of silence among them Draco started pacing the small room back and forth. Longbottom was watching the Slytherin nervously, Snape had continued to take advantage of his time in a treasured, lost library from one of the greatest wizards in history and Potter seemed content to close his eyes and shut the rest of them out for the time being.

"Potter are you stashing food in pockets are you planning to share?" Draco finally demanded, his tension and fear bringing out the worst in his personality.

Potter blinked, looking confused. "Why would I have food?"

"Over the summer, when we were in the woods, you carried it in your pockets so I'm assuming you always have something."

Realization stole over Potter's face but he shook his head, "I don't carry food when I'm at Hogwarts. It's just a habit from the summer."

Snape looked up at that, his expression unreadable but his eyes seemed to narrow at Potter and she suspected that he was thinking along the same lines that she was. Potter had to horde food because he was concerned his relatives wouldn't feed him. Draco also looked uncomfortable at realizing why Potter had had the food in the first place.

However, with the lack of food and space Draco was becoming more and more agitated before- " _Stupify_!" a beam of the deepest red struck Draco and a quickly muttered cushioning charm caught him as he collapsed.

"Little extreme don't you think?" Longbottom asked Potter, his voice more amused than shocked by the action.

Potter shrugged, "I would have asked him but I think he was too worked up to think about it properly. He would have said he was fine and not only would that means he suffers the night unnecessarily but he would have driven me nuts too. Easier this way." Potter sounded remarkably pragmatic about the whole thing and here she was naively thinking that Gryffindors were supposed to be noble and sickly sweet.

"And when he wakes up in an hour or so?" Daphne asked, her lips twitching. She didn't disagree on principle but stunning spells generally didn't last very long.

Potter shrugged looking defensive, "I think that should keep him out most of the night."

Once again Longbottom's eyes widened with the knowledge that Potter truly was more powerful than the rest of them. He seemed to be in a deep study of his dormmate, re-evaluating his own ideas of what he thought.

The night was slow and Daphne got next to now sleep on the cold floor- unable to get comfortable. Neville was much the same and Snape appeared too interested in having unlimited access to Slytherin's wealth of knowledge to even contemplate sleeping at all. Potter on the other hand had leaned up against a wall and promptly fell asleep. His face twitched every so often, as though in pain but he didn't wake.

It was impossible to measure the passing of time and Daphne was positive that dawn must have come several hours earlier, no night could possibly last that long. She was cold, tired and hungry at this point and very irritable and so when Draco woke with an almighty groan she was not sympathetic to his pain.

"Merlin Potter- I know that was you. Little warning would have helped."

Potter yawned, his face grimacing with pain of his own, "at least it spared you a few hours of worry." He glanced around as though he could decipher the time but of course he could not.

"Anybody have the time? I don't have any luck with watches."

"Just gone half six, the sun should be up soon," Longbottom answered softly. Potter nodded.

It wasn't much longer before the vault door finally slide open and they gratefully scuttled out of their temporary prison, all of them that is besides Professor Snape who looked as though he was leaving under duress. Potter looked rather bemused at the rare look of longing on the professor's face before finally rolling his eyes. "We can come back."

"Not on your life Potter. We have enough for our project and that is the last time I come to his death trap," Malfoy growled as he made his swift exit of the Chamber, headed for the tunnels.

Daphne couldn't help but feel that she had learned a lot more during their time in the Chamber than simply about stone animation.

 **A/N: A thousand apologies for how long this took. A third of chapter got wiped out and then I got mad at myself and boycotted writing. The next chapter- hopefully- will not take nearly as long and will be more exciting.**

 **The idea of Harry misunderstanding the teachers in regards to having Lockhart kill the Slytherin monster is actually a semi-valid one- the human brain doesn't develop fully until the age of 25 and doesn't truly grasp sarcasm (which is considered a higher order thought process) until the teenage years, which is why kids often don't get it or younger teens will ask if you're being sarcastic if you say something with a straight face. At least that is the only rational reason I can give for Harry knowing that Lockhart was fraud and still assuming that he would be of help to him.**

 **Edit: Sorry I have no earthly idea how this saved incorrectly but this is the better chapter sorry if your chapter cut off randomly in weird spots  
**


	36. Our Luck Has Run Out

**Chapter 36: Our Luck Has Run Out**

 **Warning: Violence, language and some sexual innuendo between an adult and teen**

It was the beginning of April and Harry had never been looking forward to the coming Easter break more than he did now. The last few weeks had been exhausting for him and in more ways than one. The Aurors had been kept busy with the escalating attacks from the Death Eaters and Voldemort's Shield had thus far proved to be impenetrable. The village that he had captured was working as kind of staging ground and the people inside as an example for what was to come to anyone that tried to resist the next attack. The recent setbacks had led to a barely contained sense of panic within the Wizarding World and Harry was beginning to think that in the end the Ministry was more likely to be brought down by the collective weight of despair felt by the people rather than the Death Eaters themselves. The people needed a morale boost and Harry was as lost as anyone else on how to give it to them.

That was not to say that Harry had been sitting idly by on the sidelines, in fact he didn't think that he had ever been busier in his life. Classes were as busy as ever and to add onto their busy schedules the Sixth Years had started apparation lessons. Harry had been excited to learn the instantaneous form of travel but he had thus far been only marginally successful. He had managed it twice so far but only for short distances and had failed to reach the exact mark that he was aiming for. And then of course there were all of his other duties to contend with. The alliance that Harry had helped build with the vampires and the werewolves was holding at the moment but there was a constant struggle to maintain it due to the Ministry's constant ineptitude and persistent condescending attitude towards anyone not strictly human. Both Dimitri's clan and the newly found pack leader of the werewolves in Malthe Penderson were refusing to negotiate with anyone except Harry, which meant that he was currently being bombarded with owls from three sides as the Ministry needed to respond through him.

Not for the first time in his life, Harry was immensely thankful that he had Hermione as a friend. With so many letters coming in daily, Harry felt as though he was drowning in parchment and it was a struggle to respond to each question, request or (more often than not) complaint. Hermione was there when he needed to phrase something delicately or else research a law or treaty that he might be stumbling on when he told the dark creatures what they should be doing.

Ron was a lifesaver in an entirely different way- he was currently keeping Harry from wanting to bang his head on a table in utter defeat. Whenever Harry came out of a long winded meeting with the Headmaster and representatives from the Ministry, Ron was there to make him feel better with a game of chess or a funny story to take his mind off of things for a while. He was also quick to lend Harry his finished homework with a wink that Hermione had already checked his over so it was sure to be correct.

Perhaps the most surprising source of comfort in all the current chaos had come from Hermione's two dormmates. Harry had never been particularly close friends with either Lavender or Parvati, in fact truth be told, he had always dismissed them as rather silly gossipmongers. However, Lavender's relationship with Ron had brought her closer into their friend group and consequently, Parvati had also been spending more time with them and Harry had discovered that their classmates had more to offer than he had first thought. Harry had once been certain that Ron and Lavender were a quick blip on the relationship radar of Hogwarts' revolving couples but in the past couple of weeks the two of them had grown closer- moving from a purely physical relationship into one that involved an actual friendship.

Following the confessions the three of them had made to one another nearly two months ago Harry felt that their friendship had never been stronger. The three of them had a trust between them that was now unbreakable and their mutual support had made each of them stronger- both as group and individually. Ron and Hermione had supported him for so long that in spite of the troubles they faced, he was grateful that he was able to provide them with the same sense of comfort and strength that they had always given to him.

Though as much as his relationship had grown with his two best friends, he knew that the bond that he had with them was separate from the one that they had with each other. Since Ron's discovery that Hermione had been attacked by Cormac McLaggen, Ron had been there as Hermione's best friend. With Harry so busy the two of them had been left on their own quite often. Harry would often come back to the Common Room to find that the two of them had stayed behind to talk and even after Harry went to bed the two would then stay up late into the night, both of them relating their fears or uncertainties to one another and looking for support. Ron had told them both that Sarah the Mind Healer had suggested that Ron seek out some counselling to help him work through some of his issues but Ron had two problems with that. The first, of course, was simple pride. The youngest Weasley brother had never wanted his family to know that he had felt inadequate or how deeply he had been affected by their lack of money and the fact that his parents' affection had had to split, many time disproportionally, between seven kids. None of the others seemed to have developed Ron's insecurities or anger problems and he was embarrassed by his own feelings of inadequacy.

Ron had even gone so far as to say that in many ways he felt that it would have been more acceptable if he _had_ been diagnosed with a mental illness because at least then he would not been blamed for it. "You have to understand, my uncle's illness… he can't help it. And yeah it terrible and everything but no one blames him or can get mad at him for feeling how he does. Can you imagine what Fred and George would say if I had to go counselling just because everyone in the family is better than me? They would never let me live it down."

Hermione had told Ron that if anyone gave him a hard time for trying to help himself feel better, and as result _be_ better, than they were idiots that didn't understand basic human emotions, but Ron had not been convinced and for once Hermione had not pushed her point. Through her own experiences Hermione had at long last learned the value of taking a step back. Of supporting someone rather than pushing them in the direction she felt that they should go.

Fortunately for Ron his other reason for avoiding official counselling was more pragmatic- it was expensive. Hermione had again argued that they had both been left money in Sirius' will, but Ron had pointed out that his parents knew of that money had put it in trust until Ron graduated and started a career. His mother had been afraid that he would use the not insignificant 500 gallons as a reason to slack off, or perhaps she had worried that he would go the 'Fred and George route' and open his own business, in spite if the fact that the twins business had become wildly successful. In any event, Mrs. Weasley had made it clear that the money was to be used wisely.

Hermione had again offered the rather salient point that using the money towards helping his own mental health _was_ using the money wisely but that argument had fallen on deaf ears.

However, Ron and Hermione's late night talks and suddenly rekindled friendship had obviously not been lost on Lavender and one night when Harry's two best friends had been talking alone in the boys dormitory, waiting for Harry to come back from a meeting, she had stormed upstairs in a righteous fury, intent on making them both regret going behind her back.

Lavender had not expected to see a sobbing Hermione being held by Ron as she related the latest of her nightmares to him. They had been startled by the brunette's appearance and jumped apart, Hermione especially stammering apologies for how things must have looked, but it had not taken long to see that a very different scenario was playing out in the boys' dorm than the one that Lavender had been anticipating. Hermione had started to apologize for how much of Ron's time she had been monopolizing but Lavender had heard enough through Hermione's tears to guess what had happened and it had been then that Lavender's not insignificant rage had been completely redirected to a new and more deserving target.

Hermione had never been particularly close with her dorm mates but they had risen to the occasion in her hour of need and Harry learned quickly the cost of enraging the so-called 'fairer sex' en mass. Lavender had wanted to drag McLaggen out in front of the entire Common Room and publicly castrate him but Hermione had restrained her for the moment. However, that had not stopped Lavender from enacting a much more sinister and yet ultimately more effective source of revenge. Lavender had been using her not inconsiderable skills as Hogwarts' resident gossip and style monarch to make it clear that no girl should want to be seen with McLaggen. And without providing any information what-so-ever the girls of Hogwarts had seemingly complied, much to the Seventh Year's frustration. He was now no persona non grata everywhere he went.

With her willingness to help Hermione and her understanding of the friendship that Ron shared with her, Lavender and Ron had reached a new understanding their relationship and begun spending more time together. This time really getting to know one another simply than just snogging. Ron had told Harry that he found Lavender refreshing in a way. She was largely uncomplicated and yet was willing to listen to him talk when he needed it. What had at first seemed to be inconsequential fling had suddenly turned deeper.

Harry had found that he liked having the lighthearted Lavender and Parvati to talk to in the mornings and both girls had helped with a few of the more social letters that Harry had also found himself writing since involving himself in International politics. It was a strange world full of fake friendships and tenuous alliances but all of it hinged on a polite veneer of friendship that Harry often didn't know what to make of. However, he knew enough to know that when he received seemingly friendly letters from delegates or their significant others that did not appear at first glance to have anything to do with politics or the war- he still needed to be careful of what he said. After giving him quite a hard time for his apparently awful social skills he had actually learned quite a bit from two girls that took socializing to a professional level.

HPHPHP

The morning of the Hogsmeade trip arrived and Harry was relieved that he actually had the whole day free to spend it with his friends. Ron's 17th birthday had passed not three weeks earlier and while Harry had managed to get him a present for the occasion, a wizard coming of age deserved more fanfare than a simple present and a pat on the back. Especially after the great surprise party his friends had thrown for him at the beginning of the year, Harry wanted to make Ron's day just as eventful. Lavender and Hermione had both helped and Hermione in particular had been unexpectedly excited about planning out a unique day in the small village.

"Is everything ready?" Hermione asked Harry in way of greeting as Harry came down the stairs.

Harry nodded, "Tonks is one of the Aurors that's planning on patrolling the village today and she said that she would take care of everything." There had been speculation and more than a few demands for the school to cancel the weekend trip to the village, citing danger from Death Eaters but instead they had opted for increased security. Harry knew what was being left unsaid was the fact that there were more than a few children of Death Eaters that would not want to be placed in the crosshairs if an attack were to occur. It seemed to have become an unofficial practice for the students to see if students like Draco Malfoy and Gregory Goyle were going before they themselves committed to leaving the safety of the castle, as their parents surely would have warned them to stay away if trouble was planned.

"Lavender knows to get him here by noon and Ginny said she made sure that Fred, George and Bill are all coming."

Hermione raised her eyebrows slightly, "I didn't realize that you and Ginny were even speaking."

Harry shrugged, feeling slightly defensive despite Hermione's even tone. "We aren't, not really but this is about Ron and I won't make him choose between us."

Hermione smiled at him softly as she said quietly, "quite nice of you considering that Ron's made it abundantly clear that he would choose you if it came down to it."

Harry was too embarrassed to properly respond. It was times like these that Harry was reminded just how far in his life that he had come. There had been a very long period in his life when the idea of anyone choosing Harry over family, even his own family choosing him, had seemed all but impossible.

"I don't _want_ him to have to choose. And besides," Harry squared his shoulders slightly as he said, "I'm not going to run around with my tail between my legs around her. She cheated on me, I should be able to talk to her if I want. I'm not gonna act like I'm afraid of her or something."

Hermione smirked slightly, "that's the spirit Harry. You're absolutely right. You have nothing to be ashamed about, she does."

Harry nodded but he didn't feel quite as confident as he was trying to project. The truth of the matter was, in spite of how busy he was, or how his relationship problems honestly paled in comparison to his friends' current dilemmas or even his own problems with the war- he was still incredibly hurt by what Ginny had done to him. He had trust her. Possibly loved her. And she had betrayed him and now he wasn't sure how he was supposed to move on from that.

Hermione gripped his shoulder slightly and in spite of everything that he had just said to her, he knew that she understood. It was times like these when Harry knew that he could not ask for better friends.

HPHPHP

The place of the surprise had actually been Lavender's unexpected suggestion. She had told both Harry and Hermione that during the Hogmeade trip before the Winter Break she had suggested that she and Ron have lunch one day at Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shoppe and Ron's reaction of disgust mingled with tangible boredom and disappointment had been rather funny to her. She had therefore bullied him mercilessly into taking her this time, not allowing him to talk his way out of it- citing every excuse she could think of: they spent all their time with his friends

\- she had gone to many of his Quidditch practices

\- she had been a patient and giving girlfriend and he owed it to her to do things that she liked.

Ron had begrudgingly given in but instead had complained continually to Harry and Hermione about having to go.

Just as noon was approaching Harry had just finished spelling the decorations that Lavender, Parvati and Hermione had helped design over the usual sickly sweet decor. The owner had been frowning and complaining about their style- particularly Harry's own touches- for well over an hour and Harry had given up trying to be polite. He had felt bad, initially, that their plan had been to lure Ron to a place that he would despise simply to make fun of the fact that they would never subject him to the ridiculously over-done romance that the cafe was usually known for. He had felt it rude to insult Madam Puddifoot's place of business even if it wasn't to his particular tastes but the woman's sour attitude and none too subtle remarks regarding the fact that Harry was currently single had dried up any remorse he might have had.

"Not bad Harry, and to think... I told Lavender that having you set up would be more trouble than it was worth," Hermione grinned at him.

"Are you suggesting that I don't have a flair for style and color...combinations?" Harry asked her. Hand over heart as though thoroughly offended.

Hermione, whose clever charms had helped bring in the food that Harry had supplied without anyone the wiser, was peering at Harry's handiwork anxiously, using her wand to fix a few more streamers in bright Chudley Cannon orange. "Harry you have many talents, interior designer is not one of them," she told him with mock solemnity.

Harry gave her a look of hurt before grinning, "well I think Ron will like it."

"He better," Hermione grumbled. "I thought Lavender's plan to drag him here was funny at first but he has been complaining nonstop for days! He's driving me nuts. If he doesn't give us the world's biggest apology for going on like a prat than I am never doing this again."

Harry shook his head, laughing at his Hermione's frustration. He doubted that she noticed that not only had he had to put up with Ron's continued complaints but Hermione's as well. It was times like these that he was very happy indeed that Ron now had Lavender to distract him. The fights that he had with her were very different than the bickering that he had with Hermione and while in some ways the fight that he had with his girlfriend were fiercer, they were also infinitely less annoying as they didn't tend to drag on indefinitely.

It wasn't much later before the guests started to arrive and finally it was a time for the guest of honor to arrive. "Come on then!" Lavender shouted out louder than strictly necessary if she had only been addressing her boyfriend.

"Oh alright then," Ron said with obvious resignation.

"Surprise!" everyone shouted. Unlike Harry, Ron did not stumble back or jump with surprise. In fact he was grinning widely and waving to them, "brilliant! I was really hoping you would go with my favorite colors. I can see you didn't let Harry convince you that it was fine just to take down all the hearts and stars and be done with it."

Lavender's mouth dropped and she stared at Ron with surprise, "you...you've known this whole time?"

Ron grinned as he pulled several pieces of parchment out from his robes, "don't say my mum didn't raise me right- these are all your pre-emptive thank you cards! And I won't say I knew the whole time... just pretty much most of the time," he told them grinning widely.

"Ronald Weasley you complete arse!" Hermione gaped, "you've been complaining for days about having to come here and you've known all along it was a surprise party?"

"Come on Hermione, you can't think it's that easy to get one over on me. I'm not Harry over there who never saw a damn thing coming even though I think we mentioned it like two times in front of him."

Harry snapped around, "what now?" he asked in confusion. Ron smirked at him, mirth in his eyes and Harry tried to think back to previous conversations among his friends in which they had let the niffler out of the bag, as the wizards were known for saying, but too much time had passed.

Fred and George laughed loudly at the prank their brother had managed to pull off and Harry wryly thought that after growing up with the twins it was very hard to get one over on his best friend. The party fell into full swing and Harry found himself fully relaxing for the first time in months. The drinks were flowing fairly freely considering the fact that they were not in the Hogs' Head but Harry had made special arrangements for the semi-private party. It was difficult to get a full room in Hogsmeade during a school weekend trip since most of the businesses used the students in the village as a major boost in their business. Harry had given Madame Puddifoot a flat rate for the room and the understanding that the guests would buy from her directly as well as be free to consume outside food and drinks. They also weren't able to stop other guests from coming in they wanted to be there.

Harry was greeted by Nott and Daphne, he had invited them as both of them had been getting along with Ron pretty well but he had been surprised when they had actually attended. "Potter, that was a wicked Defense class Friday," Nott congratulated him with a clasp of his shoulder.

Harry grinned, Tackley's class had continued to break down into teams for various exercises throughout the year and the last one had been a staged emergency evacuation of the school if there had been an attack. The objective was to get everyone out of the school as quickly as possible with as few causalities as possible.

Surprisingly Neville jumped in at that point. He and his former friend had been avoiding one another for weeks at this point and while they had been forced to work together down in the Chamber, once their projects had been presented and the Ravenclaws had been suitably upset that the team with the least amount of members had managed the top score due to what they considered an unfair advantage, the silent treatment had resumed. "I can't believe that you gave up a secret passage like that though. Honestly, I would have thought that you wouldn't want anyone to find out, even if it did get everyone out faster than the usual protocol." It was hard to read Neville's tone, part of him seemed genuinely impressed that once again Harry's method had beaten Tackley surefire plans, and part of him seemed strangely smug that Harry had given up a seeming advantage so easily.

"Desperate times," Harry shrugged casually. "Better the passage is used for a real evacuation if we need it than I get to hold on to a secret."

Nott shook his head in Harry's direction looking rather fond, but there was smirk on his face as though he knew that Harry hadn't been giving up as much as it seemed. And it was true, Harry knew full well that due to Pettigrew, Voldemort was perfectly aware of the secret passages in and out of the castle. They were essentially worthless, or worse an active trap, in an actual emergency but impressing Tackley or even getting a good grade in Defense was not Harry's goal. He was not about to give up his real plan of escape to her- who he was still uncertain of her loyalties, or his classmates- several of whom he was all too aware were his enemies.

Harry said none of this though as he continued to laugh with Nott about the terrible performance that Crabbe and Goyle had both shown in their Charms practical.

As the afternoon wore on the teenagers started to play various games and the twins demonstrated several new products. The twins had turned themselves into quite the success story. There were products were popular and cost effective. However, much of their popularity came from the mystique that continued to surround the growing myth of their mysterious financial backer. The twins had been playing up the fact that they could in no way confirm or deny the existence of a enigmatic philanthropist that had an 'uncanny knack for spotting rare talent and financing future success stories'.

Harry found the whole thing quite funny. He honestly had no idea how such wild speculation had started. He had thought for sure when he had first overheard the guests at Dimitri's party wondering about the twin's secret partner that it was just idle gossip and everyone would move on, but once again Fred and George's knack for inciting chaos even in the most mundane situations had paid off. Once again people were begging the twins to let them in on the secret but the pranksters only gave them identical Cheshire grins and insisted that they were bound by layers of oaths.

Harry spent most of the evening enjoyably chatting with a couple of Seventh Year Ravenclaws girls that were quite adept at using their famous intellects for the kind of witty remarks that had Harry blushing quite furiously at some of their innuendos.

All too soon Harry was dragging a very inebriated Ron Weasley back to the castle and trying quite unsuccessfully to get him past a livid McGonagall. Technically speaking Ron was now of age and allowed to consume alcohol when not school grounds... but vomiting in front of the Deputy Headmistress was not what the rules were designed to allow. Once in a bad mood McGonagall was quick to remember that Harry, unlike his friend, was not 17 and therefore breaking rules by drinking. They were both given a handful of detentions for their troubles but for once Harry felt the detentions were quite well earned and he would not have traded them back. Despite her anger and disappointment in their actions, Harry rather thought that their Head of House was slightly amused by catching them out for something frivolous for a change rather than dangerous or violent. In the end, Harry had so many meetings and other engagements that the detentions were essentially forgotten... much to Ron's indignation for he had no such excuses to keep him from scrubbing the Transfiguration Room.

HPHPHP

Harry groaned as he rose early for the day. It was still dark and Harry internally whined to himself that he should be made to get up before the sun had even managed to make an appearance but nevertheless he pulled himself from the warmth of his bed and into the shower. Today he was due to attend another Summit meeting and he needed to make sure that he looked as presentable as possible. He was already feeling the now rather familiar guilty sensation of being unprepared.

Despite the weeks of exchanging letters and reading as much as he could about ICW laws and political alliances that Britain was enmeshed in, he could not help feeling that he didn't have a clue as to what he was supposed to actually be doing. Harry had never felt comfortable talking in front of large groups, it was a skill that he had learned to do over time and when he had led the D.A. or was even voted captain of their team during the fake battle at the beginning of the year and he had managed rather well, but that had been when he was talking about something that he was confident about. Harry had found that he felt more at home on the battlefield than in the chambers of a political hall and he was now convinced more than ever before that he was making a wise career move in wanting to be an Auror, rather than try his luck in legislation.

Snape had been right on the train ride when he had warned him about the type of people that Harry would be dealing with. Politics more than anything else was a game with complicated rules that only insiders knew all the rules to. Lies and double dealing were considered business as usual and as many people seemed to like Harry's earnest style and straightforward speech, he knew just as many dismissed him or even ridiculed him for not doing things the way they were used to doing it. It was an unspoken rule among these people that no matter how obvious a decision was, or how helpful it would be to their own people to follow a course of action they would never agree to anything without first getting something selfish or controversial along with it. Harry hate it. Being an Auror and spending his life running after dark wizard might make for a dangerous life but Harry liked the straightforwardness of a man cursing you to your face with a wand than behind your back with words and parchment.

More than anything Harry wished that he could send Hermione or someone else who would not only be able to read the situations easier than he did but also know what to say to get what they wanted. Harry dragged himself out to the carriages just in time for their scheduled departure, he was met by Snape and Dumbledore, both of whom were looking rather tense and the unusually serious expression on the Headmaster's face in particular caught Harry off guard. "Is something wrong?" he asked them.

"Not at all Harry, Professor Snape and I were merely discussing the last minute details of your venture. As you know Harry, you need to be exceedingly be careful. Voldemort and his Death Eaters are growing restless and they know about the Summit and that you are expected to attend. It makes it an extremely likely target, I stress to you again that you are not obligated in any way to attend this conference. If the Ministry tries to force your hand, I will do everything that I can to protect you- I do not want you to place yourself in unnecessary danger."

Harry nodded, the risks of attending were not lost on him but he also knew that the point in time where he could have sat on the sidelines had past. He had come too far and worked with too many people for him to be able to reasonably back out at this point lest everything that he had been working towards crumble with him. The vampires and werewolves were depending on him. The cooperation that they had with the other delegates was depending on him. Harry knew that for better or worse Harry he would have to go.

"I understand sir. Do you know of anything specific?"

There was a distinct lack of twinkle to Dumbledore's eyes as he shook his head and this more than anything gave Harry cause for suspicion. He had long since known that the Headmaster was known to keep secrets from him but he had never before thought that the man would deliberately place him in a dangerous situation. Harry's best guess was that there was a conflict at the moment between Snape's role as a spy and his role as an Order member and assigned chaperone for Harry. Unlike the last time Harry had met with the Ministry, which was during a busy battle and seemingly without time to plan, this was a pre-arranged meeting and so there was no reason in which Snape would not be present.

Not to mention the fact that they could hardly get away with using a polyjuiced Tackley a second time. As it stood, Harry suspected the woman knew exactly what Harry had done, she had shot him more than suspicious glare while they had been in class and Harry could only assume that someone at the Ministry had said something about 'her' role in the negotiation. However, there was no way she could prove her claim without giving up the fact that she had not in fact been present. Luckily for them all, the deal had turned out be massively popular. England had received International acclaim for settling a potentially deadly conflict with a treaty that benefited wizards and creatures alike, and people domestically and abroad were citing the new legislation for 'dark' creatures as progressive and 'smart war time policies'. Tackley knew full well that she would be a fool to distance herself from such praise.

"Just keep your wits about you Harry and remember that Professor Snape is there for a reason. Trust him and I know that you both will make it back safely."

Harry nodded at his professors, showing that he had understood their warning. An attack was a high risk but it would be difficult to coordinate with the added security that all diplomats were given. Harry had heard that Voldemort had been recruiting on the Continent but to the best of his knowledge his numbers were weak there. However, the real problem came with Snape's loyalty. Harry knew that as a spy Snape could not openly help him but it seemed as though no one was going to spell out in so many words. Harry knew that if it came down to it, he would have to take care of himself- it wouldn't be the first time after all, but it occurred to him that he might also have to take care of Snape as well.

Harry pulled himself up into the carriage, saying a quick hello to the others present which included the other delegates and a team of Aurors, before taking out his Transfiguration homework for the journey. Two of the Aurors that were sent as an escort were extremely helpful in answering many of his questions and if it weren't for the rocking of the carriage that was making his usually messy handwriting downright illegible, Harry would have had one of the best essays he had evert written to hand in.

By the time they were on the train and making their way towards the bunker where the Summit would be held once more, Harry had finishing up his revision for Charms. Harry had gotten rather good at juggling his time between his various responsibilities. After spending countless sleepless nights in his Fifth Year to make up for the times that he had found himself utterly incapable of studying due to Occlumency lessons- or else the pain from the lessons or his visions- he had learned to be efficient with the time he had. A skill that had served him well in the past months as more and more responsibilities seemed to be heaped upon him.

However, perhaps the best lesson that Harry had learned in the past months was discovering that he could in fact ask for help when it was needed. In the past he had always assumed that asking his professors questions or for help on an assignment would either make him look incredibly stupid or else he would simply be rejected. His discovery that people were in fact willing to help him when asked came about, much like most things in his life, out of necessity. With only so many hours in a day and mounting jobs that he was expected to complete, Harry had finally broken down one day after Herbology and explained to Professor Sprout that he had not understood the last chapter that they had been expected to read and had not had the time to go to the library to learn more. To Harry's surprise Sprout had gladly explained why it was that Dragonis Trap wasn't able to bloom in months with less and 15 days of rain and why it was useful in the creation of time-delayed potions.

After that Harry had asked more of his teachers for help with the concepts that he needed to learn and not only were they just as helpful, McGonagall in particular had expressly told him that she was proud of the fact that he had stopped to ask them for help rather than pressing on alone. Harry had been raised under the strict banner of 'don't ask questions' and more subtly stated but even more clear- never expect help from anyone. Harry had learned at a young age that he could be self-sufficient. He could rely on himself and did not need others to survive. He was now learning that there was a difference between learning how to survive on your own and learning to thrive with the help of others. He liked knowing that he was in control of his own destiny but at the same time he valued the strength that others gave him.

Harry spent the first few minutes of the train ride speaking with a few of the liasons from the werewolf pack that had been sent to the Summit. Four had been sent from the Crescent Nest pack but there were half a dozen others from different packs around Britain that were interesting in hearing Harry's deal. Werewolves had been wanting to immigrate out of Britain for quite a while but strict laws on them had made travel nearly impossible. They had found themselves in a lose-lose situation. Unable to find employment or even safety in their home country and yet left without the resources or ability to move away.

Snape was busy speaking with many of the vampires. Once Dimitri had established his dominance over the Clan he had been strangely accepting of influence from Raymond and the older, now-former Clan Leader who had been tasked with working on building alliances with several other Clans. Raymond had already established relationships with many of the Clans, a few of them for centuries and knew the players involved intimately. Harry had spoken with a few of the leaders and was cautiously optimistic that they could extend their alliances to the other Clans. However, he as wary of trusting unknowns too deeply. Not all of the Vampires had been happy that Harry's deal had treated vampires and werewolves equally, many of them feeling that werewolves of England had long ago gone feral and could no longer be controlled. Others simply hated the wizarding society and wanted to destroy it and Harry knew that they needed to be careful of who they trusted lest the leaders try and double cross them for their own purposes.

Harry found that he liked many of delegates that he had been sent for the Summit and at the same time hated having to be present for constant squabbles, complaints and politicking. On the upside he did get quite a few interesting tips on his homework for Defense before heading into his own assigned compartment to finish up his work before they arrived. Harry wanted to have as much done as possible before they arrived so that he could devote his fully energy to the Summit.

Harry was looking over his potions essay, making revisions for the final draft when he realized that after looking through HBP's book so many times alongside his mother's own notes and tips he had actually understood the entire potion on his own and had even adopted his own thoughts on the reversal process for the hellebore poison.

He smiled slightly to himself, proud of this small achievement. When broken down there were a lot of things that he liked about potions. The precision, the cause equals effect continuity of it, the relaxing rhythm of how the ingredients were added. It was very different from most things in life, which were generally messy and unpredictable and while Harry still felt that he usually operated best on the spur of the moment, he had found that the predictability of a potion could be quiet calming.

In the past potions had always been a struggle for him. He had often failed to understand the concepts and he had dreaded potions because of the tension and dread he associated with an hour spent with a teacher that despised him, not to mention that Harry had on more than one occasion suspected of wanting him dead. But Harry and Snape's relationship had changed… or perhaps the better word was evolved. They were not friends and Harry doubted that they ever could be. Nor did he see Snape as a mentor in the way he often saw Dumbledore. There was too much history and bad blood between them for such simple titles but Harry had learned to respect the man for his skills. Balancing himself between the two sides of the war in a way that Harry doubted anyone else could have survived. Being a master potion master and a superb dualist and fighter. Harry couldn't deny that the man had a lot of skills to offer and his tenacity in completing a task was a trait that Harry admired in himself and had been forced to admit that they both shared.

"You look particularly amused by something in your essay Mr. Potter, personally I have never seen the humorous side to quick acting poisons. Though I suppose when used under the right circumstances..." Snape commented. Harry jumped slightly, cursing himself for being so oblivious, he liked to think of himself as aware of his surroundings but he had failed to even notice that Snape had come back to the compartment.

"Damn you've been spending too much time with vampires, I didn't even hear you breathing."

Snape smirked at him, "our indomitable savior, battle-ready at all times I see."

Harry grimaced, "you sound like Tonks, you know she's started yelling out 'Constant Vigilance' at me just to see if I'll react or not. I think she forgets that she's the one that's actually terrified of Moody," Harry grinned as he thought about how jumpy Tonks got when her mentor was even mentioned within hearing shot of her.

Snape was more interested in watching Harry work and seemed to consider his words carefully before he finally said, "professors talk to one another you know. We discuss difficulties in the school, problems that need to be addressed either school wide or with select individuals. In the latest staff meeting quite a few of them mentioned that after nearly 6 full years of schooling you've finally mastered the concept of raising your hand and asking a question. I also notice that despite your seemingly inexplicable improvement this year in Potions, you have not felt a similar need to ask for my assistance and my naturally suspicious nature finds myself wondering why precisely that is."

Harry inwardly wondered how it was that even when Snape was genuinely curious he phrased everything as though it was an accusation. He took a minute to gather his thoughts, wondering how best to explain himself to a man that Harry didn't think would ask for help if he was inches from death. "To be honest I never really thought that anyone would help me if I asked for it. I mean, I know they would answer my questions but the only person that's ever really taken the time to actually help me with anything was Lupin and at first I thought it was because I was just so desperate that I practically begged him, but then I found out that he knew my dad and I knew that he was doing it as way of honoring their friendship."

Harry shrugged a bit defensively, "and I didn't want anyone to think that was stupid. So instead I struggled more than I probably had to and probably looked even dumber than I had to be. This year... I just didn't have to time to really worry about what they might think if I asked for help and I knew that I needed it. I need to be as good as I possibly can if I'm going to fight against Voldemort and I guess if you want to think of it in Slytherin terms... I'm doing a hell of a lot for everyone else in the Wizarding World so I think I'm entitled to a little help every now and then."

Snape actually gave a genuine snort of laughter at that. "It occurs to me that a real Slytherin argument would be that the professors of Hogwarts are tasked with educating the future of the Wizarding World, a position that is not only prestigious in its own right but also has a tremendous responsibility to ensuring that its students succeed to their fullest potential. Therefore, you were always entitled to help if you had asked for it."

Harry smirked slightly as he dared to ask, "and would you have ever stayed behind after class to ask for extra help with the assignment?"

"Unlike you Potter, I was not easily confused by the course curriculum and did not require extra assistance." He sniffed for a moment in agitation before relenting, "though I admit that had I found myself in a similar situation I would have fallen more in line with your former line of thinking than your latter. As I once told you Potter, if there is a trait that you and I share it is stubbornness. I am not a man that is known to relent."

Harry nodded his understanding. Though Snape had never shared any part of his past with Harry, the Gryffindor had pieced together enough to know that they had both come from uncaring, neglectful guardians. Harry didn't know enough to know who had suffered more in their childhood but he knew that both had come out with a fierce sense of independence. Harry could understand the need for control, the fear that if you allowed yourself to become dependent on another person than you were going to suffer for it. However, Harry had also learned that sometimes you had to take a chance on someone.

"It was hard... asking Sprout for help that first time. Actually, no matter how easy the professors have been about it, it's always hard. But it's worth it. I probably have less time to do my work than I've ever had but I'm actually doing better than last year in my classes. Of course it helps that my scar hasn't been burning every second of the day and Voldemort is coursing his emotions through me like some sort of human aerial, but really it's the fact that I made myself get over the fact that I can't do everything. Its like Dumbledore told me, everyone has a role to play in the war... I think everyone has a role to play in other people's lives too. And it's up to us how we use though roles. We can help people and make everything a little easier, or we can make sure to make things even harder for them. We can make sure that we're all alone with no around us, or we can open ourselves up to bigger possibilities."

Snape was silent for a moment before he said quietly, "very insightful Mr. Potter. Before this year I confess I had never envisioned you one for philosophy but I have found that you possess a keen insight into how the world works."

Harry shifted uncomfortably, he was touched that Snape would compliment him, he knew that it was a rare thing for the man to do anyone.

"However that does leave the mystery of your improved Potions work..."Snape raised an eyebrow and there was an unspoken challenge in his words. Honestly, Harry was more surprised that he had not been questioned about his improved work sooner. In past years Snape would have accused him of cheating in a heartbeat. Though he didn't feel at all guilty for using the journals his mother had left him, he was worried that Snape would object to him having them. If the professor insisted Harry would cease to use the knowledge he gained from them in class but there wasn't a force that Snape could exert on him that would make Harry give up the precious mementos his mother had left behind for him.

"Sirius left me my mother's old Potion's journals in his will and I've been studying the notes she's left me… I never found Potions very interesting in the past but she…" he shrugged, having only realized as he started talking how personal the subject had suddenly become. Harry rarely got to speak of either of his parents but at least people mentioned his dad. With the exception of Slughorn informing him that Lily had been a brilliant student with an apparently cheeky tongue, he had never spoken of his mother before with anyone. "She had this way of explaining things that just make a lot of sense. She breaks it down it easier I guess, and she added in these little notes that not only help with understanding what to do but actually make it... interesting. I've learned a lot from what she left me and now that I understand it better, I like potions a lot more. She was brilliant at them," he added.

Snape had gone strangely still at Harry's explanation but gave a curt, almost formal nod to the comment. If Snape was ever going to say more, Harry would never find out as the train came to a screeching, jarring halt.

Harry was thrown forward, books and parchment going everywhere and ink splattering on his face, hands and the back wall. He collided painfully with the opposite seat but jumped up quickly as he retrieved his wand.

They had come in masse and the diplomats were screaming as then quickly realized that the protection from their Auror guards would hardly be enough.

Harry glanced out the window but he knew what he had to do first, "Professor!" Snape turned, wand drawn just as Harry yelled " _stupify_!"

The dark robed man fell hard to the floor and Harry knew that he had powered the spell well, Snape would not be rousing himself for several hours. "Sorry about that, but you can't help against Voldemort and I can't leave you to attack us," Harry muttered as he cast the very few protection spells he knew on the compartment. He really needed to learn how to ward or something. This was the second time this year he had found himself lacking. He exited the compartment to find two Death Eaters going after one of the werewolves. Harry used his wand to blast them painfully back, ducking under another volley of spells.

The Aurors were fighting back but the corridor was small and Death Eaters had them well surrounded. Harry had no idea how they had gotten onto the train the way they had, there were supposed to be protections in place against an attack. Harry's guess was that they had been betrayed by someone but he didn't have time to worry about that at the moment.

Panicked heads were coming out of the compartments and the vampires were using their own brand of destructive magic to dangerous results. "Get behind me!" Harry yelled as he constructed the largest and strongest shield that he could manage. He felt his magic build and was unsurprised when the spells crashed into the solid force with an almighty crash. He experienced a dizzying moment of déjà vu before focusing in the moment for what he had to do.

It might have been enough if not for the fact that Harry had nothing to shield his back, except the lives of innocent people and it was cost he was not willing to sacrifice. More Death Eaters charged forward and Harry was forcibly banished people back into the compartments to keep them out of harm's way. It was in the midst of trying desperately to help a young werewolf girl that Harry found himself overwhelmed. He raised his wand but there were too many of them and it came down to protecting others or else helping himself. He raised a shield to protect the girl just as pain engulfed him and he suddenly found himself encased in robes from an Incarcerous spell.

"We got Potter, we have to go!" the cry was echoed up and down the train cars and before Harry knew what was happening he was pulled into suffocating darkness.

HPHPHPHP

Harry was thrown down onto the stone floor, his head knocking painfully against the cement due to his hands still be tied behind his back. "You's gonna learn yer place at last Potter," a gruff voice told him as he was kicked in the side. Harry grunted, and tried to make his eyes adjust to the darkness of the room. He wasn't sure where they had taken him but he seemed to be some sort of dungeon room.

"You always thought you was better than us, dinna ya? You thought you was gonna win but whose laughing?"

Harry said nothing, his eyes searching around the enclosed space desperately even though his hopes of escape were low. He was in an unknown place, trapped among enemies. There was no portkey for him this time to escape. No one there to die for him in the moment. He was well and truly screwed and in that moment Harry's hope faltered and died. He let out a slow breath, he would not panic. He would not show them fear. This might be the end but Harry had decided that night in the graveyard that he would never cower and hide, he would meet his death with dignity. He pulled forth that vision of his family by the simmering lake and reminded himself that he had nothing to fear.

"This is going to be fun..." came a voice of delicious delight. Harry looked up and was unsurprised to see Dolohov standing in front of him. He had seen dozens of Death Eater meetings this past year, witnessed what they had done and felt the emotions of everyone present all while the events had transpired. He knew who relished the pain and who was in fear for their lives. Who regretted the fateful day they had tied themselves irrevocably to a madman and who still wore their Dark Marks with pride. Dolohov and Bellatrix were among the most rabid of Death Eaters, the ones who delighted in pain the most and Harry knew what to was going to happen before the curse left the man's lips.

The pain of the Cruciatus Curse slammed into Harry with unrelenting fury. It was a pain that was impossible to get used to. An all-consuming agony that made the victim want to beg for release. Harry screamed, and knew there was no point in even trying to hold them back. He would scream and he knew eventually he would even cry but he would not beg and he would not give them anything that they could use against his friends. Laughter echoed off the stone walls as others surrounded him. He knew without looking that even the more reluctant Death Eaters were excited by his capture. They had succeeded in their mission and pleased their master. They would be greatly rewarded and the first part of that reward would be to make him suffer.

The efforts of the Death Eaters continued for what seemed to be hours. The cursed him, they kicked him, spat at him and strung him up. At some point the robes binding his arms to his sides were cut away along with his robes so that Harry was suspended by his wrists in only his boxer shorts. It was cold and he thought he might be hungry, though it was hard to tell if the ache in his stomach was from lack of food or the bruises.

They released him with a careless wave and Harry crashed into the floor with a weak groan. "I think we need our rest boys, it would be shame not to be able to fully enjoy this." The door shut behind them and Harry crawled over to his torn and discarded robes. He felt an irrational flash of anger at the fact that they had torn up his good robes. For the second time these year his formal robes had been destroyed due to insane madmen and the errant but strangely funny thought occurred to him that he should really start billing them.

He curled up around his shredded clothing in an attempt to stay warm. He needed to try and sleep despite the pain. He needed to be as strong as possible if there was any hope of escape. _**Snape**_. Snape would know where he was and he would be able to send the Order. He needed to hold on until the Order came and he needed to be strong enough to make to a run for it. Harry shifted and grimaced when he leaned into a razor-sharp five inch stone that was poking into his back. He moved it aside and tried to enjoy the fact that the floor might be hard but at least it was no longer stabbing him.

The next couple of days blurred. Harry was given some water but no food and the Death Eaters came in at odd times to play with him. He knew that his ribs were broken and he thought at least two of his teeth were missing. He was just grateful for the moment that his entire jaw had not been broken as well. Harry knew that the Death Eaters were taking their time. They could have destroyed him much faster than this, he had seen it his visions, but instead they seemed content to make the experience last. He wasn't sure why Voldemort was waiting. He felt oddly insulted that his capture was not of greater priority to his arch-enemy but he kept telling himself that the longer that they waited, the more time the Order would have to get to him. They would not abandon him. They couldn't abandon him, not with the prophesy, he kept reminding himself.

They had started questioning at him. At first it had just been pain for the sake of pain but after the fourth visit in Harry was no longer sure how many days they started questioning him about everything. They asked about the Order, about Dumbledore, his friends, the Summit. Even the werewolves and vampires. Harry grew vaguely alarmed when even asked him about Snape. Did he Harry trust him? Had Snape helped him at all? He worried that the fact that he had stunned Snape so quickly into the fight had raised suspicion. Did they know?

Harry knew better than to ask or try and lie. He said nothing and kept his eyes closed if they tried to look at him lest they try to use leglimency. He might die a failure, never taking down Voldemort but he refused to die a traitor. Never a traitor. Harry had learned a long time ago that you could take a lot from a person- clothes, food, safety, even love. But dignity was a choice and he would not lose it. However, as the time stretched on and Harry's vision started to blur around the edges- dulled from hunger and pain, he was beginning to think that he was in a losing battle.

The door opened again and only one man walked in. Harry recognized him, he had been down several times at this point though never before alone, it was Alexander Nott, Theo's father, and Harry was slightly relieved. Nott spent more time mocking and taunting him than actually cursing him.

"You haven't begged yet," he commented idly as he stepped slowly into the room, taking in Harry's battered form. "Do you really think that someone is going to come and save their precious Chosen One? Maybe you thought it would be Snape. You two have been spending a lot of time together this year, maybe you thought that he would actually gave a damn. He wasn't much help to you on that train ride though. Didn't get you to safety when it mattered. Did you really think after all this time a Slytherin would be on anyone's side other than their own? He was _never_ going to choose you Potter for a very simple reason: you were never going to win."

"Are you so sure about that?" Harry questioned, his voice rasping and choked sounding. It was the first time he had answered them back but he needed to keep Nott talking, needed a distraction, his breathing was labored now and he couldn't take another round with them. Not yet, he needed more time. He was close to his breaking point and the worst thing was Harry was pretty sure that they knew it. His resolve was crumbling the aching pain in his bones, the cold that had settled deep inside of him, continually begging him to give him. Give them what they wanted so that he could stop the pain. So he would play the game for a bit, taunt them back. He couldn't give up yet. Just a little longer and Snape would be able to get the Order here.

Unfortunately though, what Nott said was true- he was never going to win against Voldemort. Even if he and the dark wizard were to fight right here and now the man's Horcruxes would save him. The man quite literally had seven lives and sheer dumb luck was not enough to keep Harry breathing.

Nott grinned at him, his face looked quite like his son Theo's but unlike the boy that Harry tentatively called a friend, his father had no warmth or kindness in his eyes. They were cold and hollow and spoke of a man that enjoyed witnessing the pain of others. But Alexander Nott was not insane like so many other Death Eaters, instead Harry had to face a more devastating truth- this was a man that valued cold pragmatism above all else. It wasn't about the fact that he wanted Voldemort to win- it was a simple fact that he _would_ and it would be stupid to side against him.

"My son likes you Potter. Did you know that? Theodore is a good judge of character, I'll give him that one. He's a weak fighter and truth be told a bit of a pansy when it comes to inflicting pain- but the boy can size up the quality of others. He sees their strengths and he preys on their weaknesses and he is impressed by you. Says you're a real leader. That you're powerful and charming. It's honestly a shame kid, given the right upbringing and standards I honestly believe that you could have been a great wizard. Hell," and the man chuckled darkly, "given enough training and time you might have even stood a chance of winning this thing outright- but you didn't have the training or the upbringing and being a worthy opponent is still not winning."

"Do you even care what Voldemort stands for?" Harry asked because he was honestly curious.

Nott smirked at him, "of course I do. I believe in power. I believe in might and magic and that the strong should rule. Do you know why there are so many muggles Potter? For the same reason that they are so many ants. They are meaningless. Worthless. They exist to work and serve and worship us. We should be like gods to these people and instead we hide from them. The only thing that the Dark Lord is doing is restoring the natural order, and you can't fight nature Potter."

The door banged opened and light momentarily flooded the dark space causing Harry's eyes to tear, when he blinked he saw that that Bellatrix had entered his little prison, her face was alight with the kind of joy that Harry was more used to seeing at a Quidditch match than on a woman that was anticipating torture and death.

"Well, well, well if it is an itty bitty Potter... did you miss us so much that you needed to come and visit for a long while?" She spoke in the baby voice that grated on Harry's nerves and lighted fire in him as he remembered how this woman had ruthlessly cut down the closest thing to a father that Harry had ever known in his life. And yet despite the anger that flared within him, as he watched her smirk at him with malice, he couldn't help the tendril of fear that licked at his insides as the horrible crimes of the woman came back to him. He knew what she had once done to Neville's parents, he knew that she above all of the other Death Eaters truly enjoyed mayhem, chaos and pain.

"Isn't your Master expecting you to be bowing at his feet and kissing is robes right about now?" Harry asked scathingly, refusing to show the fear that was building inside him.

"Little Potter likes to talk a big game but he has no idea who the players even are, do you my sweet little boy?" She was kneeling down beside him and Harry had backed up against the far wall, he was trapped and Bellatrix used that moment to run the back of her hand down his cheek, caressing it in a gesture that was nearly sensual.

When she spoke her voice was soft and velvety, the way a lover would speak to you after coitus and Harry felt his stomach contract uncomfortably. "You are a stupid, ignorant little boy that runs to anyone that pays you the smallest amount of attention, aren't you Potter? I've heard all about your damaged childhood. The filthy muggles that dared to take down their betters. After they made it clear that they would never give a damn about you, you started to whore your affection out to anyone that gave you the time of day, isn't that right?"

Harry glared at her, refusing to rise to the bait.

"First it was Dumbledore, who you will walk through fire for whenever he asks. And then it was dear cousin Sirius who was so stupid that he might as well have thrown himself through the veil, though perhaps that was goal to get away from you.." she chuckled at Harry's pain and grief. Laughed at the death of the man that she had callously murdered and Harry wanted to kill her. His hands groped until they fell onto the sharp stone that he had found a few days ago and his hands curled around it.

"And now...it's Snape isn't it? Do you love him too baby Potter? Are you so lonely that you'll latch onto anyone that so much as looks at you? Are you sure you're looking for a new daddy, or maybe you're just looking for someone that you can 'daddy' in bed... is that what Snape lets you do baby Potter?"

Harry snarled at her, her hands had strayed down to his abdomen at this point and he was caught between fury and disgust. He wanted to rip her apart but Nott was still there with his wand trained on Harry, his own features nearly impassive.

"You and precious Snape have certainly spent a lot time together this year and I have had my suspicions. I don't trust him, I have never trusted him but then... you never knew why it is that Severus Snape is so honored by my master, have you? Did Dumbledore ever tell you how my master knew of the prophesy that sent him to his doom? The same prophesy that destroyed everything- for me, for our world when our master was destroyed... and even you Potter. You're entire life was changed that night and haven't you ever wondered who it was that gave that information to our Master?

"It was Snape. I might hate that man but I will give him credit where credit's due, there's no greater Slytherin than its own Head of House. Severus Snape knows how to play his cards and he plays them perfectly. The very man that hands the Dark Lord the prophecy that will send him to his _ruin_ becomes his most trusted advisor and right hand man because it. And then somehow he inexplicably leverages his way into being Dumbledore's little pet as well. And now," she chuckled smiling at him as though she was about to reveal a secret. "He has you wrapped around his little finger as well, isn't that right? Like I said if I didn't hate the man so much, I would actually have to admire him."

Harry didn't want to believe her. A year ago he would not have put anything past the viciously cruel potions master. He would have believed the man capable of anything that would have hurt Harry or his family especially his father. But in the past months he had seen a different side to the man, one that was focused on keeping his word and above all doing what needed to be done. But as he thought of those very words Harry realized that 17 years ago exactly what Snape had needed to do to survive was ensure that his master had the perfect information to win the war. Snape had sold out his family in exchange for his position. First giving it to Voldemort and then somehow spinning things so that he could play both sides with Dumbledore too.

Dumbledore. Who had sworn to tell Harry everything and then sent Harry to spend the summer at the house of the man that had sent their murderer after them. Dumbledore had lied once again.

Bellatrix shrieked with laughter when she saw Harry's expression, his eyes had turned cold, his face hardened and Harry knew that Bellatrix was fully aware that she had succeeded- he believed every word that she said.

"My master is coming tonight baby Potter and he is going to find out all _everything_. You are going to tell him everything that he needs to know and you know what?" she whispered, her mouth at his ear, her hot breath ticking his face as her cold hands ran down his torso, teasing him. "You're going to tell him because he's going to make the pain go away, won't that be nice? Don't you want that? He's going to fix everything if you're a good boy."

Harry nodded at her blankly and she clapped her hands in psychotic joy. She bounced excitedly out of the room, no doubt prepared to tell her master that their enemy was finally broken, Nott's eyes had followed her out and he was turned away. Harry only had seconds to make sure that his plan worked. Holding his breath lest he gasp from the pain of pulling himself upright he used his strength to get to his feet, taking his only weapon with him.

He moved quickly- his Seeker reflexes still fast and honed despite the wracking agony he was in and before Nott could turn he took the pointed end of the slate in his hand and drove it directly into the man's neck. Nott gurgled and gasped, his hands flying up but Harry had stabbed straight though. The lack of air, the position of the wound kept him from screaming. The blood flowed freely and Harry had to adjust his grip as his hands grew slick from the red liquid. It was over quicker than Harry would have thought, which was good. He didn't have much time- he needed to escape.

 **A/N: As always thanks everyone! Hope you liked it. Little more violent than usual but I didn't think it was overly descriptive.**


	37. Where's a Hero When You Need One

**Chapter 37: Where's a Hero When You Need One**

 **CHOSEN ONE KIDNAPPED!**

 _ **Daily Prophet Exclusive**_ _ **By:**_ ** _Thornton Dravestone_**

 _Harry Potter, commonly referred to as the Boy-Who-Lived and the Chosen One, was abducted from a train on his way to an International Summit that was aimed at discussing strategies with British allies to successfully counter the attacks made by You-Know-Who and his Death Eaters when another attack hit the train. The attack happened as the train was passing from Belguim into Luxembourg when over a dozen Death Eaters staged an assault on the moving train. There were three fatalities of foreign dignitaries and dozens of injuries. The assault also occurred near a muggle customs exchange which endangered the Statue of Secrecy when well over a hundred muggles witnessed the attack._

 _Due to the location of the attack on an International border as well as the fact that it was orchestrated by a British grown terrorist that is being actively pursued by the British government, questions of proper jurisdiction had initially caused some trouble; delaying responses and causing tensions between various countries to rise. However, these questions were resolved when the International Confederation of Wizards took the unique stance of declaring the incident an act of 'international terrorism with a clear threat to the safety of all magical people' and as such has launched a full investigation. In the past the ICW has declared the war a largely 'British Concern' leaving individual countries to decide whether or not to provide aid to the crisis. In past months, Harry Potter himself has worked diligently to bring attention on the Continent to Britain's plight and while he has seen some success, the overall response has been limited to only a few countries willing to make a stand. With the ICW taking an active interest, there will now be resources available that Britain has been unable to access in the past. However, concerns have been raised that Britain may be at risk of losing much of its autonomy and leadership in the war effort as International forces take over the conflict._

 _As several countries find themselves suddenly enmeshed in coordinated efforts to root out Death Eaters or sympathizers in their own countries, the British Ministry is relegating almost all resources to the rescue effort of Harry Potter who was abducted from the attack site. There have been no confirmed reports of his death and the Minister Fudge has issued a statement that the public has cause to be optimistic that Potter will return safely._

 _A number of witnesses have remarked on the incredible bravery and quick thinking that Potter employed to best protect the other passengers on the train. Eye-witness accounts show that Potter moved to protect not only the other witches and wizards present on the train but the vampires and werewolves as well. A coordinated effort between the Ministry and the Anghelescu Clan has been launched to help rescue Potter. No details have been provided at this time but the public is anxious for any news on their savior._

Severus tossed the paper down in disgust. The article continued on for another five paragraphs with absolutely no new information to be offered. It was an old paper at this point, it had been four days and he had heard nothing. Nothing from the Order- who had been running around as though they were Cornish pixes with their heads cut off, and nothing from the Death Eaters who had fled before Severus had even regained consciousness.

Potter had stunned him. _Stunned_ him like an incompetent child that needed to be protected.

If the brat wasn't already suffering at this point he would have cursed him to hell and back for that little stunt. He had been sent to defend Potter, to protect him at all costs. It was a vow that he had taken 15 years ago and had never forgotten it for a moment. It was the most sacred thing in his life, the only thing that gave it any meaning. He would have gladly died the night that Lily lost her life. He would have been immeasurably pleased to say goodbye to a world that was now empty without her in it, but he had stayed for her. To fulfill his promise and protect the thing that she had given her life for. He had vowed to protect her son and now that same boy was being held by the worst people imaginable.

Severus was experiencing the unfamiliar feeling of complete uncertainty in what to do, he hadn't been able to learn anything from his usual contacts. The Dark Lord was a master at playing his followers against one another. Each of them were in a constant competition to prove their worth, their loyalty and their ability to their master. Which meant keeping any and all advantages to themselves. One Death Eater's failure was as good as another's success. It was numbers game and the only number that truly mattered was number 1. Severus had enjoyed far too long a run as one of the Dark Lord's favorites and so the fact that he had not contributed to Potter's capture was a blessing to many of the others who had no chance of advancing based on their own merits.

Potter was their prize and Severus knew enough to know that his capture was going to be used against him. Bellatrix had spent months whispering in the Dark Lord's ear that he couldn't trusted. Severus had been the last of the Death Eaters to come back into the fold. He had spent a decade working under Albus Dumbledore. He was known for his skills in deception. All Death Eaters served out of self-interest alone and it was clear that Severus had the most to gain from a possible double cross.

It had always been a tightrope walk- balancing the information that he was able to give to the Dark Lord while staying true to his actual loyalties: which of course were to Lily. Always for Lily. The Order could burn as far as Severus was concerned but he would not rest until he had made up for his betrayal of the one person he had ever loved in his life.

However, in spite of how difficult it had always been to maintain his cover, he did not think he had ever been in a worse position. No one had contacted him and he was unable to contact any of the Death Eaters asking for information about Potter without raising undue suspicion. He had yet to even find out how his absence in the fight had been taken by the Dark Lord.

Every Death Eater had been told time and again that Potter was the number one priority and so as much as Severus hated to admit it, he knew that Potter had in fact saved his neck. By stunning him, Potter had insured that Severus did not have to worry about the consequences of failing to help the Death Eaters. It was true that Severus was in a unique position. By virtue of being a spy on Dumbledore and now the Ministry as well, he was not usually expected to work out in the open. If it had been anyone else that Severus had been travelling with he could have easily shielded them and then later claimed that he was only playing his role and it was the fault of the other Death Eaters that they were not skilled enough to defeat him when he had scarcely been trying. However, it was obvious that when it came to Potter, all reason seemed to abandon the madman.

Potter was his obsession and any sacrifice save his own life was not considered too great. Severus knew that he was expected to try his best to maintain his cover as a spy on the Order but if need be he was expected to blow it in order to get Potter in the right position for capture. Dumbledore had also made his position clear- protect Potter at all costs. Severus felt a burst of bitter irony- in his youth he had always wanted others to take notice of his skills and talents, and now the two most powerful wizards in the world expected miracles from him. Both had expected him to carry out the most difficult tasks without raising suspicion to the other side. Potter, at the very least, had made things simple.

That is not say that Severus had been happy in the slightest when he awoke to an Auror leaning over him having just cast the rennervate on him. He had learned quickly that well over an hour had passed, Potter had been abducted and he had been among the stable victims that were seen to after any life threatening injuries. The Auror had sheepishly admitted that they had waited for wizards that had only been stunned to wake up on their own but when an hour had passed and it was noted that Severus had been the only one not rouse himself, the Auror had grown concerned and thought that he might have been hit with a different curse. The Auror had been impressed with the power that the 'Death Eater' had put behind the curse and Severus said nothing to correct the idea that he had been injured by minions of the Dark Lord rather than stunned by the purported 'Chosen One'.

He had then learned of the meager protection charms on the compartment that had shielded him from further attack. They weren't complex and not even particularly effective if one had been determined to come after him but they had helped against the chaos of flinging curses and were more than most people have thought to put up in the middle of a crisis. Severus shook his head at Potter's thoroughness. The same boy that had never thought to look through a single supplemental book in 5 years of potions, took the time to insure that his own bodyguard was not only out of immediate danger but kept as safe as he could manage.

Now that same boy was being held captive but the Dark Lord and panic clawed at his insides as Severus came to realize that he had not managed to learn a _**single thing**_. He at least knew that that the boy was not dead. He knew with deadly certainty that Harry Potter's death would have been broadcast around the world if it had taken place. His body used as symbol of the Dark Lord's assured victory and to destroy any hope in the wizarding world. What he couldn't be sure of at the moment was the Dark Lord's plan. Was he breaking Potter for information? Was he breaking him for fun? All Severus was sure of was that they were running out of time. He knew enough to know that no one could hold out under torture indefinitely and while his respect for Potter's grit and determination had risen this year, he was still a sixteen year old boy held by seasoned sociopaths, he would break and he was going to break soon.

The Dark Lord had taken a huge risk by attacking the way that he had. There was a reason, after all, that in the First War he had stayed largely on British soil. In spite of the massive power that the Dark Lord held, he was not strong enough to go up against the united power of the ICW. The attack on the train, particularly in front of so many muggles and involving so many foreign delegates had officially made the Dark Lord the largest target in Europe. Death Eaters that had largely been able to operate in complete isolation were now being actively rooting out in a dozen different countries. Unlike in Britain, the followers abroad often did not have strong connections to major seats in government so their influence was not as strong. Resolutions were being cast as to how to deal with suspected Death Eaters. Forces were mobilizing against any suspicious behavior.

The Dark Lord had been forced into damage control. Commanding his forces both in Britain and on the Continent into cleaning up the mess that such a large scale attack had created. Severus was fairly certain that the Dark Lord had failed to anticipate the strong International response after so many years of either indifference or political infighting. The terror attack, however, had cemented the resolve of the ICW to finally address the problem that Potter and other British delegates had been trying to get them help with for months.

Now they just had to ensure that Potter didn't become a martyr for the cause to rally around.

Severus grimaced before using his Occlumency to shut off that line of thinking. It did no good to agonize about 'what ifs' instead it was more prudent to focus on the facts as they knew them. While Severus had known enough to know that an attack on the train was likely- _a fact that he had strongly warned the Headmaster about but that was an argument for another time as well_ \- he had not been given any details, which meant that he had no information to give the Order as far as where Potter was being held.

The Order was a mess at the moment but they were still actively searching. They had originally narrowed down their search to four probable locations that Potter could have been brought to. Lupin had found intelligence that the Dark Lord had access to a Manor in France, which was the closest place they knew of to the attack point and had the added advantage of held by someone out of the Inner Circle which would mean that the person's identity was kept secret.

Another possibility was Nott House, though Severus had discounted this idea quickly. Nott's allegiance to the Dark Lord was not public knowledge even in spite of Potter's account of the events in the graveyard and though Alexander Nott was a fervent supporter of the Pureblood ideology, he was a man who liked to keep his hands as clean as possible. Plausible deniability, it was what had sustained him all this time. Unless pressed by the Dark Lord, Nott would not have assumed responsibility and risk the exposure of his loyalties.

Bellatrix, on the other hand, had eagerly volunteered as usual. The Lestranges still had some assets but as trusted as Bellatrix was to carry out any and all orders from her master, Severus also found this location unlikely for the simple reason that while the assets existed, they were also being closely monitored by the Ministry and it would have been a severe security risk to reactive the wards after so much time away. Since no news of movement on their old properties had been seen from the Ministry or the Order, everyone seemed to find the location unlikely.

Which meant that the most likely location was also the most impenetrable- Malfoy Manor. It was the most likely place to hold any prisoners as it was heavily warded and there was an actual dungeon to hold captives. However, it was near impossible to break into and had been a logistical nightmare as far as coming up with a viable rescue plan. This had led to dozens of increasingly inane meetings filled with ridiculous ideas of how to stage a breakout of such a secure place. There had been hope in the beginning that the Ministry would use their forces to break in but incredibly the Ministry was citing 'lack of probable cause' since there had been no citing of Lucius Malfoy during the train attack. It seemed clear that someone was being manipulated- either magically or simply financially was unknown though the result was ultimately the same. The Ministry was not going to help move against the Malfoys which meant that the Order was about to be forced into doing something incredibly... Gryffindor, if they had any chance of breaking in at all.

All Snape knew for sure was that they were going to have to move quickly if they expected Harry to survive.

HPHPHP

Harry had to move quickly. He picked up Nott's wand, it was oak and about two inches shorter than Harry's which made for a strange feel in his hand, before quickly checking the man's pulse once more, unsure if he was hoping for the man to be well and truly dead or holding out some hope that he had not become a murderer for the first time by killing a friend's father.

As so often in Harry's life, his hopes meant very little to the reality of the situation. Nott was dead. No chance of him waking or getting help, Harry tried to assure himself of the positives as he set to work on his next task. He used the wand to cut through Nott's robes. It was difficult pulling them off even with the cuts, especially with his hands trembling from the remnants of the torture he had undergone and Harry did not think he had ever felt so simultaneously physically exhausted and emotionally revolted by his own actions. He inwardly cursed the limitations of magic. It would have been easier to vanish them but he needed to wear them and there was no returning a vanished item, and banishing them would have only taken the person wearing the clothes along with them.

He fit them onto himself and then used the stolen wand to re-seal the tear as best as he could. It wasn't perfect work, the wand was alien to him and seemed to fight him as he tried to push his magic through it. The fingers on his right hand was so numb that he could barely grip the wood at all. He had not seen his phoenix wand since his capture and was sure that it was either a prize of the Death Eaters to tout their victory over him or else had simply been snapped. Either way Harry had no hope of seeing it again.

He fumbled slightly with the traditional white mask, his limbs refusing to cooperate with the commands he was giving to them, before donning it and completing the ensemble of the professional Death Eater. For the first time in his life, Harry was grateful for the ridiculous costumes that Death Eaters were forced into wearing because at least they were concealing. He couldn't understand how anyone could feel that they were on the right side of things when the actions they were taking required hiding your face and identify from the world. But he had long since given up trying to justify the Death Eater's behavior even for their own sakes.

He was a few inches shorter and less broad in the shoulders than Nott but hopefully there wasn't a large enough difference between the two of them to attract unwanted attention. He also worried about wearing the mask as he was escaping. The masks were always worn when the Death Eaters were out in public as well as during official meetings or when they were trying to intimidate/torture their victims, but he knew enough to know that more often than not when they were in more informal settings that Death Eaters went without them. Harry could only assume that the Inner Circle were all aware of one another's identities and so the masks were rendered largely ceremonial. Walking down the hall of wherever the hell he was to escape in full regalia might attract more attention than he wanted, but there was nothing else he could do at this point and the only thing he could do was move forward with the plan.

To help his cause Harry used the wand to grow his hair slightly as well as lighten the color to the light brown of the Notts' rather than the jet black that was practically trade-mark Potter. Human transfiguration was not his strongest point but he had mastered the concept shortly after Christmas when Tonks in particular had pointed out the advantages she had had as an Auror by being able to change her appearance.

Harry took a shaky breath, wiping the drying blood on his hand on Nott's- _his_ \- robes. Thankful once more for the uniform as the standard black hid all manner of sins. It was now or never, he was working on borrowed time and he could not be here when Voldemort returned. He was battered and weak and he could barely hold his stolen wand straight with his shaking hands- he knew that if it came to trading spells he was done for.

Harry raised his head and squared his shoulders as he strode confidently from the room.

For one of the few times in his life Harry luck was truly on his side, the corridor was clear. No one was after him. He did not rush though, he kept his pace smooth and unhurried. There seemed to be only one exit so no one could see the room with Nott's body without passing Harry and it would only draw unwanted attention to himself to be seen fleeing the empty corridor. His breathing was quick and he forced himself to relax. He was almost there, 15 meters. Now ten.

"Hey Nott that you?" a gruff voice called out. Harry pretended not to hear but forced himself to keep an even pace. He was nearly there. He couldn't draw attention to himself.

"Hey! What I'm talking to you!" the man repeated and Harry gripped the oak wand a bit tighter, his senses poised for action. He inwardly cursed the fact that unlike Ron or even Ginny he had no gift for impersonation.

He moved slightly to the right and turned so that he was not facing the man head on. "I'm busy, get to the boy."

There was a slight pause and Harry knew that he was done. The light gathered in the wand but Harry was nothing if not quick on the draw. He raised his wand and shouted at full force. " _Bombarda maxima!"_

The room exploded around him and Harry ran and dove for the door. He was thrown off his feet, carried by the force of the explosion and crashed into the door. The wind was pushed out his damaged chest but Harry scrambled up. He could shouts and curses and knew he had only moments. He pulled himself to his feet, ignoring the flares of pain in his limbs and ran outside and towards the wardline. He ran full out, pulling his wand over his shoulder and letting out a second blasting hex that seeming to hit something- whether person or building it was impossible to say. He didn't look behind himself but he heard screams and cries of pain and fury.

He couldn't stop, he was almost there. There was a wall surrounding the property and a straight shot down to the ground that magic alone granted entrance into. He scrambled up a few steps to the edge of terraced ledge and jumped without a second thought.

Once past the boundary he twisted his body and performed his very first long distance apparation.

He landed in darkness. Harry groaned as he shifted against the cement that he had fallen on. He wasn't sure where he had ended up. He had apparated with the goal of reaching London because it was the first place that he could think of but he doubted that he was close enough for his inexpert apparation attempt to take him there. He was in a muggle area that was all he was sure of at the moment, along with the sharp and nearly paralyzing pain in his left leg. Harry steeled himself and pushed himself forward with a clenching of his teeth and sharp intact of air. Pulling himself into a sitting position had seemed to exhaust him completely. His broken ribs throbbed painfully and it seemed as though he had broken bones that he had unaware he had even had prior to this latest adventure.

However, any rasping breath that he had spared for his physical exertions was frozen as he took stock of the condition of leg. There was a large chunk of flesh missing from his left calf and the blood he was losing was reaching a danger point. He used the stolen wand to force the wound to close, forcibly knitting the skin back together. He knew little of healing charms but he knew enough to stop the bleeding in an emergency situation. It was skill that Tonks had been insistent on in their training and Harry had never been more grateful that she had pushed him to perfection when it came to lifesaving wounds. The charm was not an easy one even under the best of circumstances but with a borrowed wand that was fighting his commands it was nearly impossible. After the danger had passed Harry slumped back. He was dizzy from a combination of blood loss, hunger and sheer pain and he knew that if he stood any chance of recovery than he needed to first get to some water and then to some food. He glanced quickly around, trying to figure out exactly where he was at the moment and not for the first time that day gave a word of thanks to the gods of fate for granting him small favors. He had fallen into a darkened alley rather than the middle of muggle town square which would have caused panic and only placed him additional danger. He was safe for the moment and Harry used the time to collect his scattered thoughts. He needed to think before he moved because if he moved in the wrong direction he could end up dead. He was hurt badly and not only could not afford to be caught again he couldn't waste what little energy he had on mistakes.

He was currently in disheveled wizard's robes that were covered in blood, only some of which was his own. He could not let any of the muggles see him or the only question they would have for him would be whether to place him in the nut house or a jail cell. He first needed to clean up, then he needed to eat something and then see if he could get a better fix for his leg than the patchwork mess he had managed for the time being before figuring out where he was and how he could get to London or Hogsmeade- whichever one was closer. Although, Harry realized as he painfully pulled himself up on his feet, leaning heavily on the wall for support that he actually had no idea how to get to Hogsmeade from the outside even if he was close. London then. And to the Ministry of Magic. No, not the Ministry too many people, too much risk of being intercepted. Grimmauld Place. He needed to get to Grimmuald Place. Plan set, the only thing he could do was press forward.

HPHPHP

"Remember to read chapter 17 of the text and answer the review questions in the back, your essays on the topic of lengthening charms on human parts will be due next Thursday, class dismissed," McGonagall told them all. "Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger if you would stay behind?"

Ron nodded as he gathered his books, hoping that their professor had some news about Harry but doubting that the Order had made any real progress. If there were any clear leads McGonagall would have told them before class or else his family would have sent word this morning in the post. Five days and there had been no word of Harry. When he and Hermione had first read the headline in the _Daily Prophet_ they had been sure that there had been some mistake. Harry couldn't be gone. He couldn't have been kidnapped off of a train with Aurors and wards for added security. Or if he had been captured than the Order surely had a plan to rescue him. They had both been sure that their best friend would be fine.

But instead they had learned that once again the adults had no information to offer them. There had been a time when Ron had been indescribably jealous at not being allowed to sit in during the Order meetings and be told the information that the members shared, but in the past months he had learned that for all of their secrets, the Order was not much more informed than the rest of them.

Hermione glanced quickly in Ron's direction before nodding her agreement as well and making her way up to the professor's desk. Her face was pale and her eyes slightly red, she had only cried that first day when they had heard the news but Ron knew without asking that she had gotten barely any sleep in the last few days. Even Lavender had been pushing food onto her plate during meals and urging her to eat.

"Have you heard anything about Harry Professor?" Hermione asked without waiting for address.

McGonagall gave them a tired look and Ron did not think he had ever seen her look older. She snapped her wand at the door and it shut tightly, ensuring that they weren't disturbed. "No, I'm afraid that we have no information at this time. I know you both are worried, we all are," she admitted to them candidly, "but I do want to assure you both that everything that can be done is being done. Professor Dumbledore and Order are working closely with the Ministry, as well as the vampires and werewolves," McGonagall paused as she swallowed thickly. "I should mention to you that I have been in quite a few of these meetings and it's clear that there are many people that care deeply about Mr.- about Harry. He made a deep impression on the people around him and I have rarely seen so many different people so motivated to help with a single rescue mission."

Ron nodded, acknowledging the kind words that their professor was saying but inside he only felt hollow. It didn't matter that a lot of people cared about Harry, it didn't matter that they were 'doing everything that they could', the only thing that mattered was that no one had a damn clue how to get to him back

"Do they still think he's at Malfoy Manor?" Hermione asked. On the second day when the two of them had refused to leave the gargoyles by the entrance into Dumbledore's office until they were given some solid information they had been told that the Order's best guess was that he had been taken to Malfoy Manor. Hermione had questioned why Harry had not been brought to the village that Voldemort was currently holding hostage but Bill had explained to them that the town lacked a proper place to hold prisoners long term and there was also the fact that it was a muggle village. Voldemort was nothing if not a showman and if was going to defeat his greatest enemy, he was going to do it in a seat of Wizarding power.

McGonagall nodded, "that is still our best guess but the situation unfortunately remains the same. Malfoy Manor is heavily protected and there is no way for us to get there at this time. We are still working on a way of breaking through the enchantments but the reason why I called you both up is to remind you that it will _not_ help matters to do anything foolish. Qualified Aurors and Hit Wizards are coordinating as we speak and it is a very delicate operation, any outside interference puts more than just Harry's life at risk- is that clear?"

Ron gave a stiff nod, unsurprised by the warning. Objectively speaking the Order must have expected them to do something. After all they had developed a bit of reputation for interfering in life or death situations but the difference now was that Harry was not here to lead them.

Hermione's eyes glittered with uncharacteristic defiance. "Professor if it was one of us Harry would do anything to help. He would get himself arrested before he just... gave up."

"I am not asking either one of you to 'give up' Miss Granger and I trust that at this point in your life you understand the difference between making the wise decision to leave a volatile situation to those that know how best to handle it and storming into danger simply because it makes you feel better to do something active. I know this is difficult. I know that you want to help, frankly so do I. Mr. Potter is in my House and not only a student of this school but a student that has proven to be one of the best examples of a true Gryffindor that I have ever seen. The idea of storming the gates to Malfoy Manor and bravely standing against the Death Eaters that took my student is extremely tempting. However, my place is here with this school ensuring that all that Harry has done for us all this year continues. And yours is with your classmates ensuring that when Mr. Potter returns safely he has his two friends to help him recover from this ordeal. Do you understand me?"

Ron blinked in surprise, he had rarely heard his stern professor speak so passionately or so candidly with them. She had always kept up a pretense of formality with them but now there was only respect and honest concern. "yes professor. And don't worry, you won't be the only one that is making sure that no one forgets what Harry has done for us," Ron told her. And it was true. Part of it was the fact that Harry was the Chosen One that made so many of their classmates listen when Harry spoke or miss him so intensely now but honestly the larger part of it was Harry himself. In spite of the escalating conflicts of the war, the tensions between Gryffindor and Slytherin House had never been calmer. Ron could honestly say that he had grown to like Daphne Greengrass, Tracy Davis and even Theo Nott and that was down to Harry.

After Harry had stood up to his own House and defended the Slytherins the other Houses had started acting differently towards one another as well. And while at first Harry had taken the brunt of a hate campaign led by the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws, his impressive victory in the match had gained him further respect.

Hermione nodded and gave a small apology for speaking against their professor which McGonagall waved away. They each gave hurried goodbyes before leaving the room. They made their way down to the Great Hall for lunch and Ron was surprised to see the majority of the Sixth Year class waiting outside for them, but then he really shouldn't have been surprised considering he knew how much people had grown to care about Harry. The entire school had been in a state of subdued mourning since the announcement of the attack. He noted that Malfoy, Parkinson, Crabbe and Goyle were all conspicuously absent. "What did McGonagall have to say?" Lavender asked anxiously.

Hermione gave a weary sigh and Ron saw the plea in her eyes for him to do the talking. This was just another way in which Hermione had changed so much in the past year, in previous years she would have been the one who would have wanted to relay the information. Now she simply wanted out of the spotlight and to be able to worry about Harry in peace.

"Nothing really. They think they know where Harry is but they have no way of getting to him. Apparently the Ministry is stalling or something. They're claiming legal problems or some bullshit. Mostly she just wanted to let us know that we shouldn't go pulling a Harry or something and try and go after him ourselves."

There were a few grins at the phrase, 'pulling a Harry' but for the most part the mood was somber. Ron saw Neville standing in the background and had to remind himself that starting a fight about the fact that the tosser didn't deserve to stand out here and pretend that he was Harry's friend again wouldn't solve anything. Harry may have been content to just write off Neville as though he didn't exist anymore but Ron still felt that their dormmate deserved a good thrashing.

"So... that's it? They're just gonna leave Harry there?" Parvati demanded.

"The Ministry is a bureaucracy and that means that anything that goes through them has to meet with approval and there's plenty of room for greased palms or hidden Death Eaters to put a stop to them doing anything. Dumbledore though has his own people and they're not going to be worried about 'legal technicalities'," Daphne pointed out.

"Yeah everyone knows that Dumbledore has his own secret organization. They fought against You-Know-Who the first time around and I bet you anything Weasley and Granger know all about it too," Tracy added with a smirk in their direction.

Ron shifted uncomfortably. The Order was a secret and he wasn't about to say anything to compromise that but he hadn't been prepared for the Slytherins to have so much information.

"Relax Weasley, we weren't asking for details, Tracy and Daphne only meant that there's no way that there isn't a plan to go after Potter."

"If they had a plan they would have done something by now," Seamus pointed out. "It's been five days, do you have any idea what can happen to someone in five days with Death Eaters?"

"No Seamus why don't you remind us?" Ron snapped as Hermione's face whitened. Neville's jaw tightened and Ron saw the boy's fist clench as he no doubt thought about his parents.

"That's not helping anything Seamus," Neville barked. "And it might have been five days but You- but Voldemort hasn't done anything yet either so that means that we shouldn't count Harry out yet. He's done the impossible in the past."

There was a murmured agreement around the group as everyone noted instances of Harry pulling off extraordinary feats. The fact that he had escaped from Voldemort in the past, killing the basilisk, mastering the patronus charm at the age of 13, winning the legendary Tri-Wizard Tournament regardless of the circumstances. Harry had earned himself the benefit of the doubt when it came to incredible situations.

There were a few more fortifying statements as well as some words of reassurance, particularly to Ron and Hermione who everyone knew were the most affected by Harry's abduction. The fact that the three of them were inseparable had been well known for years but Ron was surprised by how supportive the others were of the fact that his best friend might very well never come back. Despite Harry's famous name the three of them had always been fairly isolated. While Harry had been the only one of the three of them to actively avoid large gatherings, somehow all of them had always ended up the fringes. To have so many of their classmates come up over the past few days to ask if Ron or Hermione needed anything had been the last thing he had expected.

Ron had always thought that when it came down to the end he would be standing next to Harry even if there was no one else around. However, he was beginning to see that they weren't as alone as he had once feared.

HPHPHPHP

Harry leaned back against the lorry's flat bed, grateful to be off his feet at last. It had escaped over a day ago and it had taken him hours to sort himself out. With his damaged leg and other injuries he had been forced to move both slowly and carefully as much from pain as to avoid any unnecessary attention. He couldn't afford to be picked up as some sort of truant.

After leaving his little alley, he set the first part of his plan into motion. He needed muggle clothes. He wished he was in a suburban area where people might still use clotheslines for drying but he was in a city and there was no such option available. Instead he had found his way to a church four blocks from his little alley with a bin full of donated clothing. He pulled on a pair overly large jeans and a shirt that had seen better days with a rather rude saying on the top. There were no shoes available but he still had Nott's oversized shoes from the escape. They were at least two sizes too big but Harry had spent his entire childhood wearing the clothes of a muggle giant so he was used to compensating for the differences. He had next stolen some water and a plate of food from an outdoor café when the patrons had made the unwise decision to take some photos of the scenery on the street and not been watching their table. Tourists really needed to be more mindful. This had continued in similar fashion, Harry moving along as inconspicuously as possible down the main street of town, stopping when he felt no one was watching to take a bit of food.

The lorry had taken some doing. After he had sated his hunger, Harry realized that he was an idiot. He had completely forgotten about the Knight Bus. He didn't have any money but he was sure that he could convince Stan Shunpike or anyone else working the bus that he could pay them back, after all he was quite certain that news of his abduction had been widely publicized and there were a few perks to being the 'Boy Who Lived'.

Harry had used the borrowed wand to signal for the famous bus, waiting anxiously for its arrival. The minute or so wait seemed to last for an eternity and he felt inordinate relief when it arrived. Stan was his usual boisterous self and as predicted he was more than happy to give Harry a lift for free. The bus was thankfully low on passengers- there was only one hag and an old wizard present. Harry settled into his seat, eagerly anticipating getting to Headquarters. He was tired and in more pain than he could ever remember being in. And, as much as he hated to admit it to himself, he was scared as well. The certainty that he was going to die locked in a dark dungeon had not left him yet and a part of him longed for one of Mrs. Weasley's comforting hugs.

Just as Harry was convincing himself that he was safe at last and he could worry about everything else that he had learned later, all of the things he had been deliberately pushing to the back of his mind, determined not examine them too closely, the bus shook. There was a strange sound that might have been brakes if the magical bus even had such a concept. Harry sat up, instantly alert and gripped his wand.

His nightmares were coming true, they had found him. Two dark figures were approaching and though they weren't wearing the traditional Death Eaters robes, Harry knew precisely what they were.

The doors opened and a chipper voice called out, "Hey there now..." green light was the last thing that Stan Shunpike ever saw as the larger man blasted him aside as though he were nothing. There were screams from the other passengers but Harry did not waste any more time, he fired a _reducto_ curse at them and ducked returning fire. He used his wand to summon seat in front of him to block more dangerous curses.

Harry turned and blasted a hole in the side of the bus and jumped, landing painfully on his injured leg and rolled as he fired cutting curses back at the bus. He saw the blood before he saw the body but he couldn't allow himself to think on it, he had continue to scoot awkwardly back as the second man came for him. Harry used as slashing hex and was rewarded with a scream as the man dropped to his knees. Unable to follow, Harry didn't wait to see if what happened. The muggles would be coming.

He had struggled to move away and after far more time than it ever should have taken he had made his way to motorway and looked for a ride.

It wasn't easy, Harry looked rough and battered and not the ideal hitchhiker by any means but after his last attempt at apparation he could not use magical means for the moment. Harry had stood on the side of the M3 for hours until someone was willing to stop.

At long last he found finally found someone that was both willing to let him sit in back and wasn't looking for a repayment Harry most certainly wasn't willing to give. As the lorry bounced along Harry at long last allowed his thoughts to come back to things he had been trying his best to ignore for the time being.

It had been Snape. Snape who had told Voldemort about the prophesy. It was both surprising and yet oddly predictable that the man had been the one to set Harry's life on course for destruction. The same man who had taken every opportunity to tell Harry how much he had despised James Potter and yet had conveniently left out the small detail that he had been the one to ensure that he would die.

But the only thing worse than Snape's involvement was the fact that _Dumbledore had known._ The Headmaster had told Harry to trust to Snape, had forced Harry into staying at his house over the summer and whole time he had known that he was reason that Voldemort had targeted his family.

And that wasn't all that the man had lied about because in the midst of the chaos, Harry _**remembered.**_ He remembered everything from the confrontation he had had over the summer with the Death Eaters and he remembered fighting Voldemort. Lupin had told him that it had been Dumbledore that had saved him. None of them spoken to him about the mysterious golden fire that had erupted from his wand and instead had tried to convince him that the bits and pieces he had put together were nothing more than fevered delusions.

Harry felt sick with betrayal. He had trusted them- Dumbledore, the Order- trusted that they respected him enough to handle the truth and they had lied to him. He didn't care about their reasons, he cared about the fact that not a single one of them had taken stock of everything that Harry had done and trusted him with the truth.

Harry had quite a few words for quite a few people when he returned.

HPHPHP

Severus hurried into the dark basement kitchen of Number 12 Grimmauld Place, hoping that everyone had gathered with as much urgency as his message had commanded. He was relieved to note that for once the Gryffindors had managed some sort of time efficiency. It must be the fact that they were in an actual life or death situation, otherwise surely they would have all taken their sweet time getting there. The Hufflepuff members were still yet to arrive but Severus knew not to expect much from them in the first place. At least the Ravenclaws were dependable.

"What have you have heard Severus? Is Harry alright? Have you seen him?" Molly Weasley's questions crashed down on him before he had even fully entered the room. As asinine as many of her questions were, they had the benefit of drawing the attention of the entire room.

"Potter's managed to escape."

There was instant uproar as people demanded to know what Snape had found out, if they he knew where Harry was, and how Harry could have possibly escaped.

If there had been one thing that everyone had been in agreement on from the start it was that wherever they were keeping the boy it would be completely secure. Potter had made an utter fool of the Dark Lord in the past and the man would go to any lengths to ensure it would not happen again.

Severus held up both hands and glared fiercely at the Order members assembled. It would not do for them all to deteriorate to the point of being little better than his Third Year Gryffindor/Slytherin class dealing with a particularly volatile potion. "I only found out a couple of hours ago but apparently it happened two days go. He's been missing ever since and there's been no word other than the fact that the two Death Eaters sent to monitor the Knight Bus never reported back. The Dark Lord... needless to say he was not pleased with the fact that they had Potter locked in a dungeon for days and he was still able to get out. He first punished those responsible and tried to keep the situation as contained as possible. It was obvious that he didn't even want his followers to know that Potter escaped from him yet again, when he broke the news to the rest of us he tried to pass it off as making those responsible fix their own mistakes and that he only called in others to when when they had proved themselves incapable of fixing things on their own. However, it seemed more than clear that the fact that Potter got away from again... unsettled him." Severus smirked slightly at the memory of the Dark Lord's barely constrained panic at seeing that Potter had once again escaped his clutches.

"How?" Lupin asked, his expression bewildered. "I mean... we all hoped but no one has ever escaped from the Malfoy's... was it the Malfoy's? Were we right?" There were several expectant looks thrown his way and even Dumbledore, who had unusually quiet thus far looked interested in hearing how his golden boy had pulled this one off.

Severus nodded, "we were. They managed to bring him there after two jumps in apparation from what I've been told. They held him for just over 4 days and the Dark Lord was set to come and deal with him after fortifying his allies on the Continent," Severus paused, while he was actually quite proud of the instincts and ingenuity Potter had shown, it had been rather shocking when he had learned of how the teen had managed his escape. "Potter used a sharp piece of slate to stab Alexander Nott in the neck, killing him, and then stole his robes and made it to the door before being stopped. He then blasted his way quite literally out of the house and past the gates where he managed to apparate."

Quite a few people blinked in shock at Potter's brutality but no one said a word against his methods which reassured Severus a bit. There were times when some of the people present seemed to forget that they were at war and seemed determined to keep their delicate sensibilities intact but recent reports of the Death Eater activities had shoved much of their sympathy aside.

"They weren't able to track him, were they?" Moody asked.

Tracking apparation was difficult and needed either precise spells that few outside of the Auror department were aware of or else a tracking charm on the person before they apparated to be able to follow them.

"No, they never prepared for such an eventuality. Needless to say the Dark Lord was even less pleased when he heard that."

There were a few muttered comments, most of the Order were viciously pleased to find that the Death Eaters were feeling the wrath of their leader, which was of course easy to say when none of them had to either witness it or feel the man's wrath themselves.

"But you mean to say that you have no idea where Harry is now?" Molly asked, her voice full of motherly concern. "You said that he escaped two days ago, why hasn't he made it here or to St. Mungo's?"

Severus shook his head, "the Dark Lord obviously ordered a full search but the boy could have apparated anywhere and I know from Bellatrix that he sustained at least three broken ribs and other injuries and that was before his escape. I don't know if Potter is in a condition to be able to come to us," Severus admitted. When Severus had apparated to the Manor after six days of hearing nothing he had been convinced that he was coming to see Potter's execution. He had felt elated when he had learned that Potter had managed to get away but as the hours passed more and more dread had settled inside of him. Two days and no word.

"He couldn't have apparated _anywhere_ ," McGonagall argued, "the Sixth Years are still working on apparation. I happen to know that Potter had managed it in class but only for fairly short distances. He's never gone long range and considering the boy's condition at the time..."

Tonks countered that argument with the fact that they had all known Harry to do extraordinary magic when put in extraordinary circumstances, a point that no one was able to refute. The Order bantered back and forth suggestions of where the boy might be or where he might have gone but it was guess work at best. None of them were certain what condition he was in or how far he would have been able to travel.

Severus had heard enough from the Death Eaters trying to placate their master to know that Potter had suffered several rounds of the Cruciatus Curse on top of broken bones. Internal damage was an unknown as well as any sort of mental trauma from the torture. Severus knew only far too well that any person was capable of breaking under the strain and once broken, the person could become utterly unpredictable. Some curled up into themselves much like the Longbottoms. Childlike and innocent, the two would never again leave the confines of a hospital but at least they were no a danger to others. Which was not always the case, Potter might be suffering from paranoia at this point and the suggestion was thrown out to look at both muggle hospitals and holding cells to see if there was anyone meeting Potter's description in the last 48 hours.

The meeting was broken down and the members put into teams of four that were sent to likely places that Potter might try to get to in an emergency. Privet Drive, the muggle cousin's school, Hogsmeade, Diagon Alley. The list was short which tended to make things easier but that was only under the assumption that Potter was able to get to a known location. They had all agreed without need for comment that the Order needed to find Potter before the Ministry or worse, more Death Eaters.

Severus carefully avoided the Headmaster directly, still upset with the man for not taking his suggestion that Potter be kept away from the Summit meeting more seriously. Once again Dumbledore had decided to bargain with Potter's life in order to place both of them in the proper positions in the war. Dumbledore had argued that if they pulled Potter out at the last minute because of information that Severus gave him than it would blow his cover as a double agent and that it was better to trust that Severus could protect him on the train. Severus had argued strongly against this plan since there was no guarantee that he would be able to ensure that Potter was safe. Of course neither of them had counted on Potter making sure that he was rendered completely useless.

Dumbledore had a habit of taking huge risks with the boy's life and waiting for Potter to pull himself out of the latest mess. And it seemed that once again Potter managed the impossible but Severus couldn't avoid the sinking feeling that the damage this time would not just be easily swept under the rug as it had in the past.

The hours passed slowly. Severus stayed in the confines of Grimmauld Place. He knew that he should return to Hogwarts. There were others present that could maintain watch but he could not resist wanting to be present for any news that trickled in.

And news there was plenty of just none of it the kind they were looking for. There was no sign of Potter but three different raids had been enacted in different muggle towns, including one in Surrey near Privet Drive. The Death Eaters had never learned the precise location of Potter's muggle relations but they knew the vicinity and had obviously targeted it. The Wizengamot had met for an emergency session and there were rumors that they were about to pass several sweeping bills that were going to give the Ministry unprecedented levels of control. Bills that were dangerous in the best of times and would be absolutely devastating when they were still in effect when the Dark Lord succeeded in taking over the Ministry from the inside- as Severus was all too aware he was dangerously close to doing.

It was nearing midnight and leading into the seventh day of Potter's disappearance and Severus was about to return to Hogwarts to check on his Slytherins when there was a pounding on the door, desperate and hurried. Severus glanced at Diggle and Vance, currently the only two Order members present in the room and quickly came to the conclusion that they were worthless. He was about to defer to their judgment which meant he had to decide quickly what to do.

With the protection of the fidelius charm, there was no way that any a random stranger could have found them and yet no one ever used the front door. Everyone in the Order used the Floo to travel. Severus grabbed his wand and carried it defensively as he answered the door, gasping as he saw Potter dropping to his knees at the first sign of support the boy had had in days.

Severus caught him around the arms as he fell and yelled to the others to help him get the boy inside. Potter was dressed as a muggle down-and-out, making his former wardrobe from his relatives look rather posh in comparison. He also was obviously in need of healing. He had a blackened eye and a split lip. His right arm was bruised and his fingers looked raw and chapped, his muscles spasming in the familiar way that victims of the Cruciatus were known to do.

"Potter, this is important, do you think that anyone might have been following you? Do you think anyone saw you come here?" Severus asked urgently before even moving the boy further into the house. The fidelius should still hold regardless of seeing Potter enter since he was not the secret keeper but if the general location was given away precautions would have to be made.

Potter coughed harshly but shook his head, even as he leaned heavily into Severus' side. Potter seemed to be favoring his right leg and Severus noted the injury in his mind. "No, saw two on the Knight Bus outside of Reading but I managed to get away, I had to ditch the bus though. I don't think anyone else has seen me."

Severus nodded as helped Potter lay down on the couch. "Are there any injuries that I need to know about that I might not be able to see?"

Potter coughed again, "My ribs are broken and," another cough this time Severus noted that Potter's hand was full of blood. "I think it's got my lung. And my leg. I splinched when I apparated, I've never done it that far."

Severus nodded and used his wand to summon two of his potions, but they were emergency measures at best. "Right, I think we need to get you to St. Mungo's. A punctured lung is dangerous and while I can probably fix your leg, it's easier to fix a splinch right away and it's been hours."

"Severus you know that the Ministry has been searching for Harry, don't you think it would be better if he stayed here? Anyone could get to him at St. Mungo's, do you really think it's a good idea that he goes there?" Emmeline asked.

"If we're going to make sure that the muscles in his leg are properly restored, then yes I think it's a great idea," Severus snapped angrily. They didn't have time for this and the amount of blood that Potter had lost was concerning him greatly. "I understand the risks of Potter going to St. Mungos but at the moment the risks of him not going are greater."

"You don't know that, we should at least wait until Molly is here, she's fantastic at healing! And we definitely shouldn't move him before we get Dumbledore's approval."

"Do you know how to adequately fix that?" Severus gestured to the barely stitched together flesh in Potter's left calf that looked to have become infected judging from the angry red lines running out from the injury. "Because I will admit that I don't and I see no reason to put Potter through unnecessary consequences of our negligence and incompetence later. Potter is going to hospital!"

"'Potter' is sitting right here and is capable of speaking for himself thanks," Potter rasped furiously.

Severus was about to tell the boy to shut up and stop aggravating his injuries when said boy tilted his head in Snape's direction, "get me to a damn hospital. Please," he added as a seeming afterthought.

Battle won, Severus turned his attention to getting the boy stabilized enough to move. It was honestly incredible that Potter had made it all this way in the condition that he was in. Severus could see that the leg was badly damaged and Potter's extremities were trembling with uncontrollable movements. His breathing was labored, his eyes slightly glazed and focused, and there was sheen of sweat at his brow. He cast only enough spells to ensure that there was no active bleeding and that there were no immediate dangers to his organs before moving to the floo with Potter.

It was a tight fit for the two of them but Potter was barely able to stand and the floo would aggravate his injuries if he was not kept still. He wrapped Potter in an awkward hug to keep him from falling before yelling out their destination. They were brought to emergency, which was the only area of the hospital that had floo access unless you had a specified office connection.

As expected it took all of three seconds for someone to notice that Harry Potter had returned. Injured, exhausted and dirty their savior had survived once more and there was an instant uproar as the people saw a glimpse of their battered hero.

Potter did not react to the crowds but his breathing was shallow and his eyes were fluttering closed, he seemed to be passing out. There were a flurry of Healers and nurses that were all determined to be the one that treated Potter alongside a bombardment of questions like 'how did he escape?' 'how did he get here?' and perhaps most importantly 'are we sure it's really him? It could be polyjuice?'

Potter had found his way to Grimmuald Place so there was no chance of him being an imposter. Even if they had managed to break the information from him with torture, Potter would not have been able to say anything because he was not the Secret Keeper. "This is really Potter, he's got a probably punctured lung, broken bones, over-exposure to the Cruciatus and a splinching injury on his left leg," Severus explained quickly even as half a dozen wands started waving. Various lights shot forward and Severus didn't like the look of the grim expressions that he was seeing.

The staff conjured a floating gurney and then just as suddenly as the activity had started, it was over. Potter was brought to a separate room so they could work on him and Severus found himself sinking into a chair, burying his head in his hands and wondering if it was from relief or worry.

 **A/N: Thanks for all your reviews, I was happy that so many people seem to like the interactions between Ron, Hermione and Harry, and it was great encouragement when so many people asked me to update and I was able to put this out in under a week :)**


	38. Uncomfortable Conversations

**Chapter 38: Uncomfortable Conversations**

Harry shifted uncomfortably in his bed, unhappy to have returned to the wizarding hospital so soon after his last stay. At the rate he was going they were going to name a ward after him. Luckily he was not going to have stay as long as he had when he had suffered from the _Phantasies interius_ poisoning. The Healer that had examined him when he had woken earlier that morning had said that it would take 48 hours for his leg to fully heal from the splinching incident and after that he may have to stay for an additional 24 hours if the infection that had set in hadn't cleared. Either way, Harry was out of there in three days and he was looking forward to it.

He had discovered that he hated the hospital; the white colors, the sterile smell, the fact that no one gave you any privacy and above all the fact that the Healers talked about you while you in the room as though they were unaware that you too spoke English and could understand them grated on his nerves. He was anxious to get back to Hogwarts, to see Ron and Hermione and finally feel as though the last week was a horrible nightmare.

The only advantage to his confinement was that he was safe from having to talk to anyone else about what had occurred. The Ministry and even the Headmaster had been kept at bay by the most frightening medi-witch that had ever been born. Nurse 'Helen' as she had introduced herself had somehow taken an instant liking to Harry that very morning and when he had expressed his desire to be left alone she has risen to the occasion magnificently. He had not had the pleasure of seeing her in action but had seen her self-satisfied smirk when she had come to deliver his next rounds of potions and been told that she had personally seen to his privacy. While normally he felt compelled to rise to his defense, Harry was more than willing to allow the formidable witch to fight this latest battle for him. The woman was like a rabid grandmother and Harry found himself bemused with her insistence that she would 'take care of everything darlin' don't you worry at 'll.'

Harry had been left to his own devices aside from a steady stream of Healers that had to administer any number of disgusting potions or else shot rather painful healing spells at this damaged leg. He still had two more doses of reviving potion to counter the effects of the Cruciatus Curse but the tremors had thankfully ceased for the most part. He also had to use several salves in order to prevent scarring from the more physical tortures that he been subjected to. This was a most uncomfortable experience for Harry as he was unused to be touched when in a state of undress. However, he had quickly shoved any discomfort at having the salve rubbed into his skin by relative strangers when he had seen the damage that had needed to be repaired. Harry's chest, back and thighs had been fairly grotesque when his bandages had first unraveled and Harry had not been able to prevent his look of horror and worry. He had never considered himself a vain person before but the thought of having to spend the rest of his life not only disfigured and hideous but with a permanent reminder of the past week had been nearly overwhelming. Thankfully, he had been assured that he would be largely scar free.

There was a knock on Harry's open door that was becoming familiar, the perfunctory sound of someone announcing their presence, not asking for permission. He looked up expecting to see one of his Healers and was surprised to a youngish woman, perhaps about 30, in more casual robes. She was pretty but not striking, more kind than strictly appealing in any noteworthy way. Her blond hair was pulled back from her gently smiling face giving the impression of someone younger than she probably was. She was carrying a stack of parchment with her and one of those smiles that always looked a bit too calming to be sincere.

"How are you feeling Harry?" the woman asked warmly.

Harry raised his eyebrow slightly at the familiar address. She wasn't dressed like a Healer but he didn't recognize her and he knew that Nurse Helen had been exceptionally vigilant when it came to keeping out unwanted visitors. "I've had better days, but I've had worse. How are you, Miss...?" he asked leadingly.

The smile widened slightly but also became a bit more genuine as she seemed amused by his response. "My apologies, I should have started with an introduction, my name is Sarah Walker?" she ended like a question and Harry knew that she was asking if Harry had in fact heard of her. "I believe we have a few mutual friends."

Harry frowned slightly, "Bill's friend the Mind Healer?"

Sarah grinned a bit, "that's usually the description people give of me."

Harry nodded slowly, letting the joke fall flat and glancing slightly at the door, wondering what it meant that they had sent a Mind Healer in to talk to him. "No need to be nervous Harry, this isn't an interrogation or some sort of test. You've been through a really traumatic experience and its common practice to have someone talk to patients while in hospital to make sure that if they need to talk about something, someone is there to listen. I'm sure you remember that Healers spoke to you when you were attacked over the summer and suffered from the effects of the _Phantasies interius._ In that situation there was additional concern due to the nature of the poison on the mind but I assume they gave you the opportunity to talk through what happened as well?"

Harry nodded again, relaxing slightly as he realized she would have spoken to anyone that had been held by Death Eaters for days on end and not because of the Ministry's manipulations or worse something he had done. "A bit, but mostly they just wanted to make sure that I wasn't hallucinating and they asked about my memory," Harry admitted.

Sarah frowned slightly but nodded, "Well I work for St. Mungo's part time when I'm not running my private practice and since I sort of had a connection to your close friends I thought it might be easier if I spoke to you rather another Mind Healer. Unless you have a preference for someone else?" she asked, sounding as though she would not be offended or surprised if he chose to speak with someone else. He supposed it must happen a lot in their line of work.

"No, that's fine," Harry answered honestly. He rather be left alone entirely but he assumed that was not an option so he figured she was as good as anyone else. At least Bill had vouched for her so there was a measure of trust in that. Sarah waited for a moment as though Harry was going to speak but he wasn't sure what he was expected to say. She smiled once more as she pressed, "So how _are_ you doing?"

Harry let out a slow breath of air. He hated talking about how he felt, especially with someone that in spite of her connection to Ron's oldest brother he didn't know from a hole in the wall. "I'm not sure what you want me say," Harry told her candidly. "If I tell you that I'm doing alright you're going to assume that I'm lying and if I tell that you I'm not... I am lying."

Sarah raised her eyebrow slightly. "Well I try not to assume that everyone I speak to is lying to me but I'll be honest and tell you that I find it more than a little surprising that someone who was kidnapped, tortured, forced to escape and then spent over two days trying to get back to safety is perfectly fine with everything that happened."

Harry had to give her credit for saying 'everyone' as opposed to referring to him simply as a 'patient' who was lying. However he couldn't keep a slight smirk from appearing on his face as he considered just how ironic her statement really was. He took a deep breath and thought about how he could explain himself best.

She was patient as he collected his thoughts, watching is expressions and no doubt evaluating what each emotion meant but she didn't rush him, though it was clear that she expected an answer.

"I didn't say that it didn't bother me or that I was... happy about what happened. I said that I was alright," Harry explained trying not to sound short with her.

Sarah nodded, "well 'alright' is a pretty wide term, can you explain a little more what you consider 'alright'?"

Harry paused as he considered how best to explain himself. How he could explain that he had been scared and in pain and there had been times when he had wanted to give up. When the Death Eaters were questioning him, when he had been waiting in the cold on the side of the road and wondering if anyone would ever find him. How could he tell her that even now as he sat in hospital he still couldn't believe it was over because he wasn't back at Hogwarts and he had not been able to see Ron or Hermione? Or explain the fact that even knowing he would get a new wand the fact that his faithful phoenix wand, the twin to Voldemort's and his last line of defense, was lost to him forever and that terrified him.

How could he tell her in spite of all of that, he was alright and knew that he would continue to be alright. Would she understand him or was something that you had to experience yourself in order to know it was possible?

"I'm sure you've heard about end the of the Tri-Wizard Tournament," Harry started quietly. Her eyebrows rose slightly but she nodded, strangely she almost looked impressed that Harry would start there. He wasn't sure if it was the simple fact that he was talking at all when it had seemed as though he would remain quiet or the choice of subject.

"I read the Skeeter article," she elaborated, "it was a very detailed piece, your descriptions were vivid- I confess that was what convinced me of the fact that you were telling the truth. I wasn't sure until the article, I had heard rumors and several things didn't add up but I also hadn't heard enough about... about You-Know-Who coming back to know if it was true or not. I'm not a fan of Skeeter," she admitted candidly. "She's at best an... _expressive_ writer and at worst an outright liar but I could tell right away that the words in that article came from you. Rita's flair for the dramatic was absent, despite it being the most dramatic piece I ever saw her publish."

Harry smiled, warming a bit now that the other woman was talking too. However, his expression turned somber as he thought about why he had brought it up. "honestly, you know the worst part of that night? It was the fact that I never saw it coming."

"That's often a hard thing for all victims of trauma to come to terms with," Sarah explained gently.

Harry shook his head, "no, but see, I should have. I knew someone was out to get me that year. Someone put my name in the Goblet of Fire, someone entered me into a tournament that so many people had died in that it had been cancelled and only brought back with a new age requirement and supposedly safety restrictions. I _knew,"_ Harry repeated shaking his head rather sardonically. "And I still never expected the portkey, or for Voldemort to be there. I thought it was over," Harry admitted, reminding himself once more of that conversation that he had had so long ago with Sirius about the Tournament. "The whole time in the tournament I was scared of something happening and then I reached the Cup and I thought that it was over. When I was in that graveyard and Cedric died... and I thought I was going to as well I wasn't ready, or prepared. And when I got back... I wasn't ready for everything about my life to be different because of that one night."

Harry paused, thinking back to the shocked expression on Cedric's face.

As if reading his thoughts Sarah asked, "do you ever feel guilty that your classmate didn't survive that night?"

Harry's face twisted slightly, Cedric had not exactly been Harry's classmate, he had been two classes above and nearly three years older but he had also been one of the few people that had never blamed Harry for putting his name in the Goblet and had always shown him respect. Harry answered honestly when he said, "I did at first. I was the one that suggested that we take the Cup together," he admitted before remembering that she would have known that from the article where he had laid out all of the details.

"But I didn't kill Cedric, that was Voldemort and I couldn't have known that Cup was a portkey when no one had expected Voldemort to come back to life that night either... but I did learn from that night. I learned that sometimes the worst can happen when you least expect it and as terrible as it is... you keep going. That even when you lose someone that you care about, the world... it keeps going and you have to keep going with it. Does that sound...mean?" Harry asked.

Sarah shook her head, "its actually very wise. Most people take years to realize that they can't control what happens to them."

Harry nodded, glad that she had understood what he was trying to say. "Two years ago we weren't at war and I didn't know what to expect but now... I've had a lot of time to accept what being a part of this war really means. I'm not saying that it's easy or..." Harry let out another breath as the events of the last few days once more overwhelmed his thoughts.

"If you're asking me if it was awful, the past week I mean- not just the Tournament because that was awful too but..." Harry cleared this throat feeling that he was rambling a bit. "Then the answer is yes. I was terrified and in pain and I really thought that I was going to die... but I didn't tell Voldemort anything important," Harry told her with a bit of a grin. He had not given up, no matter how hard it had seemed Harry had survived and with that knowledge came a feeling of pride that could not be taken from him.

Sarah blinked and a look of surprise crossed her features.

"I didn't lose who I was or who I wanted to be even though I was scared so... I don't know if you think this makes me sound crazy but even when I wasn't sure if I was going to make it out I still felt... proud."

Sarah was quiet for a moment before saying, "well you certainly have a lot of feel proud about Harry." She considered him carefully for a moment before asking, "do you have anyone that you confide in about how you feel?"

Harry frowned, "yeah my friends Ron and Hermione. I tell them just about everything." And it was true. He still wasn't great about talking about his feelings, he never would be and most often didn't want or need to but with the recent revelations that all of them had made to one another their friendship had never been stronger. They were more open with each other and less embarrassed to be vulnerable. Even if Harry didn't need to put everything into words when he was with them, he still grew strength from the fact that he knew they would always support him.

"Sounds like you have amazing friends Harry. I hope they both know that. It's not often that I get to speak with a young man that is able to have such a strong sense of self, and while it might seem strange because most people think of 'self' as being an individual but from my own experience I can tell you that the most well rounded and self-possessed people are those who not only believe in themselves but have a strong support system. I confess I was worried about that with you but I can see that it was not needed. I want you to know that if you ever want to talk to someone else or find the stress of the war getting to you, you can always come to me. At times it helps to have someone objective listen after all," she said with a smile, which Harry returned.

"Thank you Sarah," Harry told her. They spoke for a little while longer, mostly Sarah asking if he had suffered any nightmares or experienced any flashbacks. He hadn't really had the chance to have nightmares yet as he had just fully regained consciousness but he admitted that they were not unusual for him. She warned him that it was not uncommon for people to be mentally immersed back into a traumatic event and if it occurred to speak to the Madame Pomfrey at Hogwarts. She asked a few other questions about school or his role with Summit, commenting that it must be stressful to have so much responsibility at his age. Coming from someone else the remark might have sounded incredibly patronizing but Harry was impressed to find that Sarah was only making an honest observation without judgement.

As she left she told him that he that unless he wanted to continue to talk to her they would not have meet again as she felt satisfied that he was recovering well. However, she also told him that it was important for a person to acknowledge that they had been through something traumatic. To allow themselves to feel what they needed to feel rather than push themselves into thinking that they should be fine. It was good advice but what Harry did not mention was the fact that far from worrying about Death Eaters and Voldemort at the moment, there were others far closer to him that were currently occupying his mind and it wouldn't be until he resolved his conversations with them that he would be able to put anything behind him.

When she left Harry did actually feel better for having articulated how he knew that he would survive this recovery as he had others. He knew that when something terrible happened it stayed with you, molded a part of you into who you would be in the future, but it was not the only defining thing about you either. Harry had pulled himself up from tragedy before and knew he was capable of doing it again- but at the moment he was far more concentrated on getting some needed answers from two people that greatly owed him some explanations.

HPHPHPHP

Harry had put off the confrontation for as long as possible. The infection had cleared quicker than projected and Harry was allowed to leave after only two days in hospital. He was still taking a couple of potions and would need to check in with Madame Pomphrey every other day for the next week, but he was leaving as of three o'clock that afternoon. He had been fairly astounded that Nurse Helen had been able to keep Dumbledore from his rooms during his stay as though the man was not one of the most well-known figures in their world. He was grateful for the time to get his thoughts in order because he only had one chance to have this conversation and he did not want to let his anger get away from him and look weak.

He had forgiven Dumbledore a lot over the years. He had not held the fact that Dumbledore had kept the prophecy a secret even when it had ended up costing Sirius his life because of Harry's misinformed decisions. Even after Harry had suffered for a year because the man had ignored him and kept Harry in the dark both about the war and his reasons for keeping Harry at arms lengths, Harry had offered him forgiveness and understanding. But Dumbledore had promised to tell him everything, sworn that he would be honest and hold nothing back and instead he had disregarded Harry's feelings in favor of his own agenda.

Part of Harry wanted to confront Snape before Dumbledore warned him that Harry knew that he was the one to tell Voldemort about the prophesy but he knew that the Headmaster had been put off long enough and there was no doubt that he would be the one coming to collect him that afternoon. He would want to know what happened with the Death Eaters as Harry had yet to relate any telling details to any of the Healers and Harry knew once he was faced with the man everything would come out. Harry was far too direct to be able to hold himself back.

Harry waited quietly in his private room for someone to come and collect him and was not disappointed nor surprised when Dumbledore walked into the sterile room right on time to pick him up.

"Harry, I'm am most delighted to see you well and healthy once more," Dumbledore greeted him warmly with a smile that Harry did not return. Dumbledore's eyes dimmed slightly at Harry's expression but there was no flare of guilt. The Headmaster was no doubt under the impression that Harry's disposition was due to everything that had happened. However, for once Harry's displeasure at the moment was very firmly directed at Dumbledore rather than Voldemort or his Death Eaters.

"Harry... I cannot begin to tell you how sorry I am that once again you were in the crosshairs in a dangerous situation..."

"Really?" Harry cut him off, not caring that he sounded rude but needing to get to point. "You're sorry even though you knew exactly what was going to happen?"

Dumbledore did not look offended or even particularly uncomfortable with Harry's outburst, rather- much to Harry's increasing irritation- the man appeared infinitely patient with a boy that was no doubt suffering from the shock of trauma.

"I understand that you are feeling angry..."

"You don't think that I should _be_ angry?" Harry questioned, his tone shifting to curious.

"I don't think we can often control how we feel Harry, but no, you have every reason to be upset with the position you were put in."

"You knew," Harry spat, finally. "You knew he was going to attack just like you knew that Malfoy and Snape were going to get the Death Eaters to attack me this summer before the werewolves attacked." Dumbledore's eyebrow raised slightly as Harry's temper flared. Harry had been collecting his thoughts over the last few days and the more he pieced together the sicker he felt about it all. He remembered the conversation with Remus he had had in this very hospital the last time he had been there. How the man had tried to convince him that Draco wasn't a Death Eater and that Harry couldn't be sure of his accusations. Except now Harry remembered it all. The way Draco had been shifting suspiciously in the week leading up the attack, he remembered his confrontation with Draco in the cave and the fact that the blond hadn't denied anything. He had blamed Draco and Snape for working on their own but now he saw the bigger picture- Dumbledore had known everything all along and had stood by and done nothing to warn him.

"I didn't remember a lot after the _Phantasies interius_ poisoning,but I remember everything now. How could you keep that from me?"

The Headmaster's momentarily discomposure at being confronted with his sins from months earlier resolved itself quickly and Dumbledore straightened. "I have always told you what I think you have needed to know at the time-"

Perhaps there had been more to the explanation but Harry saw red at the remark and spat out, "just like you knew that I was the one that was going to have to fight Voldemort and you didn't say anything!" Harry forced himself to reign himself in before he said something he was going to regret. He didn't mind laying into Dumbledore, in fact he felt that the Headmaster deserved to be called out on his actions for once, but he wanted answers more. He wanted to know _why_ Dumbledore had continued to lie to him when he had promised to be honest and if he was going to be continued to be blindsided in the future. "How is it that you are always able to decide what I need to know or what I need to do? It's _my_ life and I deserve to make my own choices with all of the right information!"

Dumbledore gave an uncharacteristic pause and his warm expression finally drooped as he seemed to truly accept for the first time that Harry's outburst was not a reaction to being held captive by a madman but truly a condemnation on Dumbledore himself for everything that he had done. And it was true, Harry hated Voldemort but he was never surprised by the man's villainy or sadistic ways. It was a simple relationship- each of them knew what to expect from the other and Harry liked that. He was a straightforward person, it was the reason he hated the political games played by all of the delegates and Ministry officials. Harry knew that a lot of people looked down on him as naïve but he preferred to think of it as honest. He had no problem showing respect for the people that he felt deserved it and conversely hated the idea of having to smile to someone's face while you were plotting behind their back.

In the end Harry felt that the Sorting Hat was indeed very wrong about him- he would never have done well in Slytherin. It's not that he didn't possess the ability to lie or to think quickly on his feet or even to plan his moves well when given the time, growing up with the Dursleys had ensured that he could survive in any situation, and when the situation called for it he felt that he could lie quite well, but he hated it and only did so when it seemed to be the only resort.

Which was why it hurt all the more to find that a man that he had respected and trusted as much as he had the Headmaster was a bigger master of subterfuge than the Dark Lord. It was _Dumbledore_ that he had trusted and to have the man throw those regards so casually back at him, to be used by him again and again was far worse to Harry than knowing that Voldemort wouldn't rest to until he killed him.

"I did," Dumbledore confessed quietly as he moved to sit in the hard wooden chair that was available for visitors. Perhaps it was a mark of the man's sincerity that he chose to sit in the uncomfortable chair rather than conjuring one of the plush armchairs that Harry had seen him favor on other occasions. Or perhaps he was using all of his thought processes on trying to talk his way out of a corner, Harry considered cynically before disregarding the thought. Dumbledore hardly needed all of his thought processes to manipulate him.

"Harry... I don't wish to make this sound like an excuse for my behavior but I have been placed in a very difficult position. I'm not claiming that I am not responsible for all of my decisions, on the contrary I took up the role of a leader in this war as much from necessity as from desire. Severus, on more than one occasion, as told me that of my many virtues humility is not one of them and I confess that the man is right. I have always prided myself on my skill, my intellect and my purpose. I was blessed with extra ordinary magical power alongside a gift for understanding both magic and people; for the most part these are innocent qualities in and of themselves. It is my ambition that has always gotten me into trouble. The arrogance to assume that I know best, and that I can manipulate the situation in my favor."

"So you admit that you manipulated me?" Harry asked hurt and yet slightly impressed that Dumbledore would admit what he had done.

"Not so much manipulated _you_ my boy, who I truly have nothing but the deepest of admiration for. As I said to you in the beginning of the year, you are a young man that is not only mature for his age but are direct in your purpose. Even _if_ I had felt that I needed to push you in what I considered to be the 'right' direction, I doubt I would have succeeded in anything other than short term goals. You are a person that strives to do right Harry and you will stand by your convictions no matter the cost. As I said, I deeply respect that because while I strive for the same, my failing is that I allow that cost to fall on others while you have always done everything in your power to ensure that the consequences of your actions are yours alone. But in the interest of honesty, no I have not manipulated you, but I have manipulated events surrounding you." Dumbledore sighed and took off his wire glasses and rubbed them smoothly on his robes before replacing them. "Every war has so many moving parts to it, and the path to winning a war is never a straight line. I sincerely wish I could say differently but you are far too wise not to have known this. There are some that argue that in the end there is very little difference between two sides in any war because in the end it comes down to more similarities than differences- both sides believe that they are right, both are willing to both kill and die for their cause, both sides allow their own prejudices to cloud their ideas of the opposing side.

"And so the question becomes, is there any point to fighting at all? How can we claim moral superiority if we take the lives of our enemies? If we resort to spies and manipulation are we not everything that we claim that we fight against? At what point do the two sides of a war appear to be mirror reflections of one another?"

Harry frowned and opened his mouth to argue the point but Dumbledore spoke first in answer to his hypothetical question.

"I cannot believe that Harry. I cannot believe that there is nothing worth fighting for. That fighting for the rights of others and standing up for those that are unable to defend themselves is the same as claiming to protect that which was never in real danger of being taken away. I do not claim that we are the 'right' side of the war nor that a single person is all good or evil but I strongly believe that to stand by and allow Voldemort and his Death Eaters to shape the world in their grotesque image of hate and bigotry is a crime against my very nature. And to that end... I have made the choice to fight and to win- even though I know that any victory requires sacrifice. I have had to make the smartest decisions I could to end this war as quickly as possible. And I am terribly sorry to confess to you that very often my smartest ideas and best laid plans are often not _right_ ideas. The moral ideas that I claim so loudly to support."

Harry sat still as he listened to Dumbledore's sensible reasoning. Dumbledore had this peculiar way of stealing Harry's anger from him. Just as he had managed to deflate Harry at the end of last year after he had destroyed the man's office, he felt a similar ebbing of emotion now. Except this time he wasn't quite ready to let bygones be bygones and accept that Dumbledore was a busy man with a lot on his plate.

"I know what Snape is. I've known this whole time and I knew when you warned me before I got on the train that something was probably going to happen, and accepted it. On the train you didn't give me any way to escape. You could have given me a portkey, you could have assigned a different guard, you could have come yourself!" The morning of the Summit when Harry had first been told about the dangers of a possible attack he had largely accepted the danger and what he would need to do if the worst should happen because he had seen no other real options. He had been so concentrated on what was about to happen he had spared no thought to the lack of preparation that had been taken for his safety. Absurdly when Dumbledore had given him the option to stay behind to protect himself, he had been thinking about protecting Snape and his cover as a spy. But he had had days of torture and then recovery to stew on what should have been done.

"You did the same thing over the summer only that time you didn't give me any warning. You knew what Malfoy was planning, didn't you? And you said nothing!"

Dumbledore lowered his eyes slightly, but his voice was steady and sure as he answered, "there was a plan in place that would have ensured that you were safe. I promise that you would not have been brought to Voldemort that night but placing you in the right position was a key feature in not only capturing Death Eaters but also trying to turn young Mr. Malfoy's loyalty. I know this might be hard for you to understand but Draco is more impressionable than anything else. He signed up for a life of servitude without fully understanding the magnitude of his actions."

"Then you could have told me that! You should have trusted me!" Harry shouted, trying not to sound childish.

Dumbledore bowed further and his shoulders hunched as though under physical weight. "It was not a question of trust-"

"Yes it was," Harry answered curtly. He let out a slow breath before could collect himself enough to say. "Sir I have always respected what you have done for the war, for Hogwarts, and I have accepted everything that you have asked of me, but at a certain point you have to decide what you really want from me. Do you honestly believe that I really have a chance of beating Voldemort or do just want to use me for whatever plan you have going?" He couldn't help the slight plea that had slipped into his voice and forced his face to remain cool and aloof. He was hurt by what the Headmaster had done but he refused to face the man whining like a crying child.

"You lied to me, and not just by not telling me everything. Remus told me that it was you that fought Voldemort when the Death Eaters attacked, but you weren't there, were you? It was me. My wand that made those flames and you lied to me."

The Headmaster sighed and gave him a sad look, "it was not my intention to take credit for you deeds Harry, it was intention to protect you from the belief that magic of that nature could possibly be replicated. I saw a memory of the battle and I have never seen a spell that accomplished what yours did. The _Phantasies interius_ _has a powerful but very dangerous effect on wizards and you were reacting purely on instinct. Magic like that... it is not possible to replicate it with a rational mind I did not want to leave you with a false sense of confidence."_

 _Harry shook his head, "you could have explained that to me! I hardly remembered what had happened but I knew that my memories weren't matching up to what people said happened. I'm not an idiot professor, I know that I could never do something like that again. It wasn't even me, my wand reacted to Voldemort before I could do anything!"_

 _Dumbledore seemed surprised by words but did not correct the statement that a wand could have acted without a wizard's direction. Instead_ Dumbledore regarded him solemnly for a moment before nodding in ascension. "You make a very valid point Harry. I have never claimed to be a perfect man and one of my many faults is my need for control. I was wrong to lie to you even if my intention was only to protect you. And as for not relating the plan in place to entrap the Death Eaters, I confess that I wanted- felt I needed- a genuine reaction for my plan to work. I knew of your enmity towards Draco and I worried that you would react prematurely to stop him and not only cost us the chance to eliminate key Death Eaters but also endanger Severus' position as spy."

"You thought that I was so petty over the fact that Draco and I argue over Quidditch and the fact that he has tried to make my life a living hell at Hogwarts since I was 11 that I would actually sacrifice the war?" Harry asked incredulously. "Getting back at Draco for teasing me about being an orphan isn't worth throwing away the chance to stop the man who made me one, professor!"

Dumbledore nodded slowly, his lined face one of remorse. "I know that Harry. You have shown remarkable maturity and strength this past year but I have learned- very recently in fact- not to underestimate the grudges that develop at a young age and... instead I gave you the disservice of assuming the worst in you."

"You mean because Snape and Sirius hated each other you assumed that I would hate Draco just as much?" Harry asked insulted that the Headmaster had thought so little of him. He loved Sirius but that did mean that Harry had been completely blind to the man's faults. Sirius and Snape both had never gotten past how they had felt about one another from school. Harry would never know all the details of what had led them to hate one another and he knew that Sirius had been forced to suffer for years with only the bitterest memories of their fights which had it made it impossible for him to truly move on. Snape had no such excuse but Harry was learning that the man's viciousness knew no bounds. Harry though was his own person and one that had grown up with the knowledge that there were far greater threats to him than anything Draco could do. He found himself insulted that the Headmaster would not see that for himself.

"I do apologize Harry I can only say that in spite of misjudgment of your character, I never doubted your skills or your ability to survive the staged attack I had planned. Obviously events happened much differently than planned, but I do promise that my error came from misplaced caution, not recklessness."

Harry glared at the Headmaster, still upset with the fact that Dumbledore had prayed on the fact that Harry could get out of bad situation so it was apparently fine to place him in one.

"You didn't think that I could be trusted to know the truth," Harry said slowly. "But you tell Snape everything."

"Professor Snape has my fullest trust Harry. We have had this conversation before and honestly I had thought that you had come to find that under your hostility for a man that you may dislike on a personal level there was respect for all that he has done for us," Dumbledore told him shifting from remorse to a tone of disappointment.

"It hard to respect people when you find out what really drives them. I thought that Snape spied for us because he knew what Voldemort was doing was wrong but now I know that all he was ever doing was covering his own tracks, but how could I known that before when you lied to me. Again."

"Harry..."

"Snape was the one that told Voldemort about the prophesy! He told him and now they're dead and you made me _stay at his house and work with him all year!_ " Harry seethed. He could not remember the last time he had felt so angry and under the anger there was bitterness because he should have been angry at Snape but at the moment the righteous anger that belonged to avenging his parents was eclipsed by the wrong that had been done to him personally. Dumbledore had lied, and continued to lie. Worse he had worked to get Harry to trust and even _like_ the man who was indirectly responsible for the death of his parents and the ruination of his childhood.

Dumbledore's eyes widened slightly. "Harry...there is much you don't understand about the events that led to Severus delivering the prophesy to Voldemort."

"Really professor? Because I think it's pretty straightforward actually. Snape was a Death Eater, Snape hated my dad! He hated him and you just said that you shouldn't underestimate 'schoolboy grudges'- which you learned from _Snape_. Snape hated Sirius and now he's dead and he hated my dad and now he's dead too- there isn't a lot to understand."

Dumbledore shook his head sadly, "but there is Harry, there is so much that you could not possibly understand and I wish very much that I could tell you everything but they are not my secrets to share. Only Severus can explain himself to you."

"But he has a really good reason, right?" Harry snorted quietly. "He didn't mean for anything to happen to them. Or for me to be raised by the Dursleys. Or maybe he did but it all worked out for the best, didn't it? In fact, I'm sure that everyone should be really grateful for him, after all without Voldemort knowing the prophesy he wouldn't have targeted me at all, my mother wouldn't have sacrificed her life for me and Voldemort wouldn't have been destroyed for 13 years."

"Harry, I know that you are upset but you cannot ever imagine how much Severus regrets what he has done. I believe it to be the single greatest regret of his life."

Harry shook his head, sick at the fact that Dumbledore still continued to defend Snape. Harry had done everything for Dumbledore. He had forgiven him his mistakes, he had followed him in the war, he had placed his trust and loyalty in the Headmaster above anyone else. And still Dumbledore chose to defend Snape to him. Dumbledore still did not feel any remorse for pushing Harry's company onto a man that had destroyed his family.

Harry could feel his face hardening and he unconsciously straightened his spine as he stared the Headmaster down. "Ever since I was eleven years old I looked up to you. Hagrid was the first friend I ever had and he claimed that you were the greatest wizard in the world, and when I met Hermione on the train she raved about how amazing you were. I never doubted that you were the strongest wizard, or that you would protect us when something happened to the school. I defended you whenever anyone tried to tear you down but the whole time you lied to me. You used me."

"Harry I am so sorry that you feel that I have used you, that was never what I wanted to do."

"It doesn't matter," Harry said harshly. "It was my mistake anyway. You're my Headmaster and you fight Voldemort, that should be enough. I never should have expected more from you." Because he had. Harry had thought that Dumbeldore had cared about _him_ and in turn the loyalty that he had for the man was built more than on the simple fact that he was powerful or incredibly smart.

Dumbledore seemed to deflate at these words and Harry thought that he aged drastically in seconds but the Headmaster seemed to accept what Harry said and did not defend himself- Harry wasn't sure if that made him relieved that he did not try to convince him that he had done what he had thought was right or sad that he couldn't even deny that Harry had only been pawn in his game.

HPHPHPHP

Harry came out of the floo in the Headmaster's office with his mind still reeling from the conversation he had just had. He was still angry with the man and his emotions felt raw and unsettled. He hadn't felt like this since the previous year and it did not comfort him to think that for a long time he had blamed much his of volatile attitude on the stray emotions he had felt through his scar but now he could see that a large part of it had been the way in which Dumbledore had treated him too. Harry had always prided himself on his independence and the fact that he did not need the approval of others. Much of it had come out of necessity since he had spent so much of his life contending with their scorn or negligence but he had still felt some pride in all that he had managed alone. But there was something different about how the Headmaster had treated him and it left Harry feeling oddly embarrassed that it was not enough just to have the man's respect for his efforts in the war but that he had wanted the man to truly care about him. It was a blow to realize that the Headmaster had never truly cared about Harry beyond what he could contribute to the war.

Harry was so distracted by his own thoughts that he was unprepared when he finally realized that he had not entered an empty office. Not only was Harry not ready to talk to anyone yet, as his luck would have it, be was faced with the one person he could not bare to see at the moment.

"Potter," Snape greeted, his posture straight and his face as expressionless as ever, but there was a strangeness to his usually silky tone. If Harry didn't know better he would say that man was eager to see him.

"Snape," Harry nearly snarled before he could think properly.

The man's brow lifted slightly and his lips pursed in disapproval. "We have much to discuss-"

"Yes, we do," Harry started just as Dumbledore came through. "And I think it best if we do it privately," Harry added with a pointed look at the Headmaster.

Snape made a noise of disagreement that was surely about to become both argument and reprimand for his dismissal of the Headmaster in the man's own office but he was interrupted by Dumbledore. "Yes I believe you both have much to say to one another. Our other matters can wait until tomorrow," he added with a pointed look at Snape that Harry ignored. He didn't want to talk about their next brilliant plan for the war, even if it meant that there would no more secrets kept from him. Part of Harry knew that it was a mistake to have these two conversations back to back. He was too unsettled, too angry, too emotional for him to be rational or even objective about what he was going to say but he couldn't stand the idea of pushing it off for another moment. Snape had had over 16 years with the knowledge that he had delivered the words that had sealed the fate of Harry's family and it was time the man answered for what he had done.

There was a moment in which neither man spoke when the door to the office closed behind the Headmaster. When Snape broke the silence it was with barely concealed patience, "Mr. Potter I am well aware that you have suffered greatly over the course of the last week but if you expect that to mean that your rudeness and childish demands are going to be met without consequences…"

"Bellatrix told me it was you," Harry interrupted without preamble. "She told me that you were the one that gave the prophecy to Voldemort, and that's the reason he trusts you so much. Is it true?"

Harry knew that it was, if not from his own certainty in the truth of Bellatrix's words at the time they were spoken than from Dumbledore but he had wanted to see if the man would try to deny it. He was instead shocked to see the normally imperturbable man to grow pale, practically white, at the accusation. His eyes were wide and his usual straight-backed posture had hunched slightly forward as though the man had taken a physical blow

He was silent for a moment before saying quietly. "Yes it's true." There was a beat of silence in which Harry waited for the man to explain what had happened further but Snape seemed to have said all he intended on the subject.

"That's it?" Harry shouted, white hot anger flashed through him. He wasn't sure what he had expected from the man. Excuses? Outright denial or lies? Certainly not a plea for forgiveness, he knew the man was too proud for such a display but he had still expected… something _more._

"And what precisely would you expect me to say?" Snape answered drily, his former stoicism returning. His posture was stiff, his eyes black as coals as he stared at Harry without remorse. "You know the results, does knowing my motivations really make a difference?"

Harry's face twisted and a well of hatred seemed to rise in him. "I already know your motivations. You always hated my dad, you've wanted him dead since you were in school together. And you were working for Voldemort too. Were a spy for Dumbledore yet? Was this just a way to protect your cover? I bet you weren't, were you? You were working for Voldemort and you gave him the prophesy so he could deal with the 'threat' and make sure that he was protected. And then you got nervous because all of the sudden siding with the 'Dark Lord' wasn't such a sure thing with a prophesy involved- so you leveraged your information to the Order and got to make sure that you were on both sides." Harry had been stewing on this for days. Over the last several months Harry had grown to respect that Snape was a truly talented and intelligent wizard. He had even admitted that he could be a man of his word and had helped him in more than one difficult situation. There were times he had even liked working with Snape because both of them had a tendency to think outside the usual boxes when constructing their plans. Both of them had worked on the plan to essentially force the Ministry into an alliance with the Dark Creatures and Harry could honestly say that it was really their combined effort that had made it work.

However, there had never been definitive proof of Snape's loyalty. Nor did the fact that Snape could be tolerable at times negate the fact that he was a bastard that bullied and terrorized the students that he taught.

Snape glowered at the accusation, he was no longer pale but red with indignation, "playing both sides? Is that what you believe I've been doing?"

"It's what I've thought from the beginning," Harry told him honestly. "Both Voldemort and Dumbledore are convinced that they have you, so you're either lying to one or lying to both. So if you're going to lay things out, why not do it properly? Everyone else might be satisfied with hearing that Dumbledore or Voldemort trust you but for once I want to hear from you! You say that motivations don't matter but they do, was it revenge? Were you excited that you finally got a go at my dad? Because we both know that you didn't give a damn about my mum!"

"Lily is all that I cared about!" Snape screeched with a kind of unhinged rage. Harry blinked and stepped back momentarily shocked, as much from the words as from the sheer madness in Snape's eyes. Harry had often complained that he was never able to read Snape; that the man only showed either distain or anger but there was tableau of emotions on his face now. He was physically shaking, his eyes were wide and his pupils were blown, his whole face had twisted into something grotesque and Harry saw an impossible combination of longing, regret, desperation and hatred. Snape had never been an attractive man but there was something frightening in how he looked now.

Snape was breathing hard, as though that short sentence had cost him every ounce of energy that he possessed and for a moment Harry very much believed that it had.

"I thought you only considered my mum some 'mudblood'-"

"Don't," Snape said harshly, and he needed to take two breaths before he was able to finish speaking, "don't say that word." Snape coughed and straightened and a bit of sanity came back to him.

"You want it _laid out_ Potter? You know nothing! You are a stupid schoolboy that thinks a few meaningless words given by some drunken fraud make you important. You think my reasons are so simple? That is could ever be as simple a matter as sheer _self-preservation_ that drives me. You know nothing," he repeated and for possibly the first time in Harry's life he truly believed every single word that came out of Snape's mouth because regardless of the fact that the man was a master Occlumens or quite possibly the greatest spy in the war, Harry did not believe anyone could fake the sheer madness that had not quite left Snape's eyes. Harry had never heard him speak so passionately about anything but rather feel excited as he would have if anyone else spoke with such emphasis Harry could only feel a desperate sadness about everything Snape said.

"Than what is it?" Harry asked quietly, his anger shifting for the moment in favor of genuine curiosity. He had not thought that Snape's reasons would matter, that any excuses he gave would be just that but all of the sudden Harry found himself wondering if he was just as naïve as Snape claimed.

Snape snarled at him, "that is none of your business Potter. What I felt... what I did or who I serve now is my life and I owe you nothing."

Harry gritted his teeth and glared back at the man with more hatred than he had ever felt towards the man in his life. "You _owe_ me everything! From the first day you met me you have hated me and bullied me. I always thought that you made my life miserable before but I had no idea that you were the one that sent Voldemort after my parents. We've spent months working together and the hell of it is I was actually starting to think that working with you was alright. I _respected_ you!" Harry spat the word like an insult because today more and more it felt like it was. He had respected Dumbledore for so many years. He had been learning to respect what Dumbledore had seen in Snape to make him trust him. And now the only thing that he had learned was that he was a fool. "You're the reason that I spent ten years in a cupboard at the Dursleys. You're the reason they're dead. You owe me an explanation for that."

Snape had gotten his breathing under control and his posture stiffened but there was still that hint of untamed madness in him. He seemed to consider for a moment, perhaps weighing what Harry had said against how he felt about it but then to Harry's surprise, he answered.

"I'm not a good man, Potter," Snape said bluntly. "I never joined the Order or went to the Headmaster because of a great moral calling or the belief that I owed it to weaker, lesser mortals to protect them when they were unable to protect themselves. I once told you that I am a man that does what he needs to do- and when I became a Death Eater I did it very simply because I believed that the Dark Lord would win and if I was at his right hand I would have all the power and influence that was denied to me as a child and a teenager." Snape paused as though collecting his thoughts and all of the sudden Harry had the bizarre impression that Snape _needed_ to tell him. Needed to have him understand what had driven the man for so long.

"I was the youngest Potions Master in over two centuries. I graduated with 12 NEWTs and near the top of a class that was widely considered the most talented Hogwarts had seen in generations. And I did all of it with a father that hated magic and a mother that while once talented in her own right was ultimately too weak to stand up to him. I succeeded in Slytherin despite being a Half Blood and one from a poor family at that. I was _inventing_ my own spells by my Fifth Year and had well surpassed my professor's instruction in potions by Sixth. You would know more than most of the students here- you have gotten the benefit of my old Potion's book." Snape smirked at him.

Harry stared at him in confusion for a moment before reason kicked in. "HPB?"

"Half Blood Prince- my mother's maiden name if you remember. I worked and I studied and I pushed myself to be the very best- and I succeeded...in a way. Except that no one noticed, and no one cared." Snape looked down as though hearing his reasoning aloud was even more shameful than the emotions themselves. He took a deep breath. "Instead the school cheered for Potter as he played a stupid sport and ran after Black for his charm and good looks. Lily..." Snape swallowed painfully and there was a tenderness when he said her name that Harry had never heard before. "She was my...my best friend. She was brilliant at Potions, we used to study together." Snape's face hardened and he looked down at Harry.

"You cannot possibly know the pressures of having a muggleborn friend while being a Half Blood in Slytherin. You cannot possibly understand the climate of the escalating war and the effect it was having on my House and the people inside it. In order to distinguish yourself in Slytherin you needed to make the right contacts- and at the time the only contacts that mattered were those that would eventually become Death Eaters. Our... our friendship could not survive."

Harry felt sympathy for him. Snape was clearly a man that had not had a lot of friends and the loss of one that obviously meant so much to him had to have been painful. Except... Harry frowned, "bullshit. I've had the entire school hate me, and I've had most of the Wizarding World call me a liar. People can't force you to change what you believe in and they can't force you abandon your friends. You didn't have to follow them"

Snape seemed to swell up for a moment before abruptly deflating entirely. When he spoke it was quiet and with a kind of regret that Harry hoped he would never feel. "I am not a Gryffindor Potter. I am a pragmatic person that knew what it would take to survive. Eventually I had to make a choice between abandoning all of my goals and the success that I had dreamed of since I had been a boy or abandon my friend. Except I wrongly assumed that I could get everything that I wanted. I could have power and respect...and Lily," he nearly whispered.

"You loved her," Harry said numbly, unsure how to even feel with such a revelation.

Snape said nothing but no words were really needed, Harry could see it clearly.

Snape turned and it seemed that he was speaking more to himself at this point than to Harry. Perhaps thinking things over for himself after so long. "After Fifth Year...after I insulted her in public and chose to remain friends with Avery and the other future Death Eaters... Lily and I were no longer friends. We spoke occasionally but it was...strained. Uncomfortable. She never forgave me, not that she had reason to when I had made it clear that loyalty belonged to people that considered her an abomination. I gave her my potion's textbook because I thought it would interest her... and after school I became a Death Eater and she married Potter and joined the Order. When I overheard the prophesy I didn't know all of the details, nor was I even aware that Lily was pregnant at the time. She was the one person that I never wanted to hurt and I tried to save her, the Dark Lord was never supposed to kill her... but it was too late."

Harry didn't know what to say. He knew that Voldemort had been willing to spare his mother's life and he had never known why. Snape had somehow gotten the man to agree to spare her life. An agreement that had ultimately saved Harry's life instead as it was due her sacrifice that he still lived. But Snape had also given Voldemort the prophesy with the understanding that _someone_ was going to be killed. If it had been Neville and his parents, would Snape have even cared at all? From the look in Snape's face as well as the words he had said- Harry didn't think so and that disgusted him.

However, something else struck Harry that suddenly seemed to tie everything together. "You were the one that warned Dumbledore that Voldemort was going to go after my parents weren't you? That's why he trusts you so much."

Snape nodded mechanically. "I swore I would do anything to protect Lily- my position as a spy was payment for his protection of her."

Harry blinked in surprise. "But... well..." His mother had died, that should have negated any promise that Dumbledore had managed to wrangle from Snape, but Snape was still spying and Dumbledore still trusted him. In spite of his anger and even contempt towards the Headmaster at the moment, Harry knew that he was not a stupid man. In fact if anything Dumbledore had shown Harry that he was very far from the trusting old mentor that the Death Eaters derided him for being.

"You're alive. Lily died _for you_ ," Snape explained simply but there was no mistaking the bitterness that it took for the man to acknowledge that. "I couldn't protect her, but I will protect the person that she gave her life for." Snape stared directly at Harry and there was openness to his face that Harry had never seen before. For all of the times he had felt that Snape was impossible to read and devoid of emotion, the opposite was now true and he knew that the potions master spoke the truth as he said. "I told you Potter, I am not a good man, nor do I honestly aspire to be one. Any ambition that I might have had for serving at the Dark Lord's side died with Lily and if you think that her conscience or her good nature lives on in my service, I assure you it does not. If not for my debt to her I would have happily walked away from the war, from Britain itself and allowed the Order and the Death Eaters to kill each other. Lily... Lily should never have died and it is a mistake that I must live with every day. You want to know why Albus trusts me with you- you are the one person that I could never harm." Snape paused and his face twisted once more into a mask of pain and regret and as though to complete his confession he added, "and the fact that I am forced to protect the son that she died for instead of getting to protect her is the greatest punishment I can think of."

The office seemed unnaturally quiet and for the first time Harry noticed that the portraits had been as silent as the grave since their conversation had begun. Time itself had seemed to freeze and Harry had a dizzying moment when it all felt as if it had been a strange dream. Snape had loved his mother. Snape's true loyalty had been with him above Voldemort or Dumbledore.

He knew that he should say something, but he wasn't sure where he should begin. There was something immensely pitiful about Snape's story, and yet there was a kind of strength in it as well. Harry suddenly felt very tired, and the only thing he could think to say was, "being a good person isn't something that you decide once. It's a decision you make every day. Making the wrong decisions in the past doesn't force you to keep making them. And using your past mistakes as a reason to not do better in the future is a weak excuse. You've done a lot to help me this year... and I think my mum would like that."

Harry turned and left before more could be said. It was too soon to say anything else and he knew that he would need a few days to fully come to terms with everything that had been said before he could fully process it. Did he forgive Snape? Did he have the right to not forgive him when he knew that Snape suffered for his actions?

He couldn't answer those questions yet and knew it might be a long time before he fully knew how he felt about the enigmatic man.

HPHPHPHP

Harry climbed the staircase back to Gryffindor Tower wearily. He was tired both physically and emotionally. He felt raw. Exposed. And he wanted to curl under his bedcovers and stay there for the next week. He wondered idly what would happen if skived off all of his classes the next day and simply refused to move from his bed- more than likely another talk with Sarah the Mind Healer.

The worst was knowing that he still had another difficult conversation ahead of him. One person that needed to know exactly what had happened, though Harry honestly didn't know if the person would even want to speak to him after everything that had happened. He knew that he should probably do it tonight but he couldn't face the idea of another emotional confrontation.

He needed a clear head because the next conversation was not about him and he would need to be strong. And with that thought he desperately wished that with all of the secret passages the school had to offer, some enterprising Gryffindor had thought to create one right up to the boy's dormitories so he wouldn't have to face the hordes tonight.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes," The Fat Lady greeted him along with her friend Violet, the two of them sharing a cask of wine. "You were greatly missed around here, dear. The old place hasn't been the same without you."

"A toast to your return!" Violet yelped.

"Cheers," Harry told them dully. He was hoping that due to the fact that dinner was just letting out that the majority of the House would still be out, he didn't want to deal with a large crowd at the moment.

"Valerian root," Harry groaned hoping that no one had changed the password in his absence.

The portrait swung open and Harry was not greatly surprised to see about half of the House present and down in the Common Room seemingly waiting for him. He half expected cheers or other equally passionate greetings as their House was known for but instead he was met with an eerie hush. Harry froze, feeling like a deer caught in the headlights when Lavender spoke up.

"I told all of you not to bombard him, not to become bloody mimes that can only stare at him. Honestly, you lot lack any subtly at all. I can't believe I'm saying this but take a cue from the Slytherins will you? Welcome back Harry!" She said with a smile.

"Harry!" quite a few people shouted out now that the silence was broken.

Harry gave them a tight smile and wondered how quickly he would be able to make his escape. Luckily once again Lavender came to his rescue by pulling him into a corner of the room before pulling him into a hug where she whispered, "don't worry, we made sure that no one is going to give you a hard time. You really don't want to mess with Ron and Hermione when they're protecting you."

"Thanks Lavender," Harry told her quietly. "Hey Parvati," he greeted when he saw that the other girl was thankfully the only one that had followed them over. Harry glanced around to see where Ron and Hermione were and surprised that they were not there when he had walked in.

"Gone all week Harry and you don't even notice that I changed my hair?" Parvati greeted him with her hands on her hips and a raised eyebrow, smirking slightly at him. Harry felt some of the enormous tension that had seemed to be building to nearly catastrophic levels deflate slightly. "I'm so sorry, you know how I tend to be rather... self-absorbed," he responded, giving her a deliberately telling look.

She stepped forward to hug him too, saying quietly, "I'm happy you're back Harry, you had us worried this time."

"This time?" he asked skeptically.

She shrugged, "you usually go off in the middle of the night when you're doing something impossibly heroic and no one even knows that anything is going on until the next day. This was terrifying, I don't know how Ron and Hermione put up with you."

"Practice... speaking of which though, where the hell are they?" he asked, letting a bit of annoyance seep into his voice. He had wanted to see them badly. Needed to see them and they weren't there.

Lavender and Parvati shared a knowing look, "well honestly it's going to kill them that they didn't make it back in time since they both have been dying to see you, but they got held up. With McGonagall... and the Aurors," they added significantly.

"Aurors?" Harry asked blankly. "Are they alright? Did something happen while I was gone? Dumbledore never said anything," Harry asked starting to panic a bit. Worst case scenarios racing through his mind.

"No, no nothing like that," Lavender reassured him.

"Hermione called the Aurors...about McLaggen. She went to McGonagall a couple of days ago. Right after we heard that you were alright and were in St. Mungo's getting patched up... I think she felt that if you fought your battle, she needed to fight hers, you know?"

Harry stared for a moment before smiling genuinely for the first time in what felt like an eternity. "She did? That's bloody fantastic. What did McGonagall say? What's happened?"

"Well we didn't hear everything and Hermione is being frustratingly quiet about the whole thing. I mean honestly I try to be sensitive but a girl being this close to the biggest gossip of the year and then being told to mind her business is bloody torture Harry, I mean you can't possible imagine er..." Lavender winced at her choice of words considering it was no secret how Harry had spent his week but he could only give her a rather bemused look. He had grown rather fond of Lavender's dramatics.

"Right well, we know that McGonagall had her go to Madame Pomfrey, not that she could do anything after so long but I think she just needed it on the record that she reported it to the school nurse. And then McGonagall contacted the Aurors. They came and pulled McLaggen out of school yesterday and he had to answer all these questions. We thought that was going to be all but now his parents and their solicitor got involved so they needed to interview her again. Hermione's 17 and didn't want her parents involved but she was allowed to have someone with her and Ron insisted that he should be there for her." To Lavender's credit she did not look upset that her boyfriend was playing such an integral role in another girl's life but there was slight frown to her face as she related that Ron had _insisted_ that he be allowed to remain with Hermione.

Harry glanced up at the clock, surprised that they would still be talking to her so late and then realized that despite how long the day had seemed, it was only slightly passed dinner time. With the conversations that Harry had had with both Dumbledore and Snape he was not remotely in the mood to eat and so he had not even noticed that he had missed the meal himself.

"How long has she been gone?"

"McGonagall came asked to see her just before dinner, she should be back soon," and as if in answer to her statement the portrait opened once more emitting both Ron and Hermione who looked quickly around the room before running towards him.

"Harry I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to-"

Harry cut her off with a hug, strong and slightly desperate, all at once the full weight of everything that had happened during the long week, the emotional upheaval of days conversation and perhaps most of all simply how much he had missed them seemed to hit him. "Are-are you alright?" Harry asked, voice choked with emotion.

"Am _I_ alright?" Hermione huffed in irritation but she was gripping him just as tightly and unlike himself Hermione was not holding back anything, she was openly crying into his shoulder. "Merlin Harry, oh God I was so worried. I'm so glad that you're alright."

"Good to have you back mate," Ron said his own voice gruff and Harry came undone. Tears fell down and he held Hermione close to him as though she were a life raft. He had held himself together when he had needed to. He had shown no weakness to the Death Eaters that had tortured or interrogated him. He had stayed calm during his escape and he had even held himself together after he was in St. Mungo's and had known, logically, that he was safe... but now he was truly safe in every way. He was home and with his true family for the first time he let down the final walls holding himself up. His sobs were quiet but rather desperate- wracking his body as Hermione held him and Ron gripped his shoulder.

He did not think he had ever felt better.

 **A/N: Very emotionally intensive chapter and I hope it didn't come across as an overwhelming info dump but this is where all the characters are at in this moment in time. A few people asked about Theo Nott's reaction and that will be in the next chapter but I felt adding a fourth emotionally charged conversation after already spilling Harry, Dumbledore and Snape's thoughts was too much. We're actually sliding into the resolution of this story if you can't tell so thanks again to everyone that has continued to read and of course review.**

 **I feel like I really gave Dumbledore a bashing this chapter and I wanted to explain that Harry is upset at the moment. He is hurt and betrayed because Harry would never have run the war this way. Personally I don't believe in an 'evil Dumbledore', they're fun to read but as I have said my goal with this story was to keep most characters (sorry Neville) as close to canon as possible and this is how I view Dumbledore. A man with good goals that is not perfect and lacks real trust in other people. We see this in canon a lot- not only did Dumbledore keep the Horcruxes a secret from the Order that could have helped destroy them, he convinces Harry to do the same. He guides Harry along like a puppet on a string with a series of 'clues' from beyond the grave that is on the one hand incredibly impressive and on the other hand proves that he both likes and possesses an extreme amount of control. If the fact that Dumbledore places Harry in extremely risky situations seems OOC, I would reference the Seven Potters Plan.**

 **So everything with Snape is finally out in the open. As interesting Snape is and as much as I do feel for him, I also feel like he got off light in canon. He bullies Harry for years, he terrifies Neville so much that he is literally his greatest fear and let us not forget that when he goes to Dumbledore to save Lily he admitted that he didn't care at all if Harry and James were killed as long as Lily survived. Snape is not a good person and yet he is a man that is extremely loyal and will stand by his convictions with his dying breath. He is a man that you can respect and at the same time truly (and with very good reason) dislike. I wanted to delve a little deeper into what had motivated Snape to join the Death Eaters in the first place as well as show that Harry can see that Snape has suffered for his choices.**


	39. Aftermath

**Chapter 39: Aftermath**

"Boom!" the dummy blasted apart and Harry gave Ron a tired smile. "Nice one," he said of the well placed reducter curse that the red-head had used.

"Well I figured I should take down that one for you, it was obviously the worst of the lot since you know... you took down the other dozen," he answered rather drily, he looked as though he wasn't trying to look openly concerned at the brutality that Harry had unleased on the fortunately inorganic materials, but he was failing.

Harry glanced away feeling rather embarrassed and pretended to be interested in the clock they had asked for the Room of Requirement for and saw that at long last it was finally an excusable time to be up in the morning and they could go shower for breakfast. It had been a rough night, while he had been in hospital he had managed to avoid the post-traumatic nightmares that being captured by Death Eaters were bound to induce, but somehow it seemed that his subconscious had more than made up for the delayed reaction by showing him the full terror of being bound and chained without hope of rescue all at once. It hadn't helped that the conversations he had had with Dumbledore and Snape had been weighing on him. He wasn't sure how he felt about any of it.

Did he forgive Snape? Was it enough that it was obvious that Snape would never forgive himself? Could he forgive Dumbledore for all of the lies and the fact that he had manipulated him again and again.

He had woken his dormmates twice in the night with his cries of remembered pain and terror, the memories overwhelming him. It almost seemed as though his mind almost was reaching for the simplicity of the torture and fear he had experienced rather than the complex emotions he was left with after the fact. Being captured had been horrifying and more than enough to fuel his nightmares for years to come but there was a very small comfort in knowing that he knew exactly how he felt about it. There was no shame in his terror or uncertainty in how he felt towards the Death Eaters, rather it was his own people that he was unsure how to feel about and that revelation had been terrifying.

After the second time Harry had woken them all, stammering apologies and clearly still shaken, Ron had practically forced him out of the room so that Harry could calm down. Ron had asked if he had wanted to talk about it but the feeling of Theo's father taking his final, laboring breaths was still too fresh in his mind and he could not put it into words. Even after all of their years of friendship, Harry had never cried in front of Ron or Hermione. The night after the Third Task, when he had been weak both physically and mentally in the Infirmary and Mrs. Weasley had held him, he had come frightfully close, the tears prickling his eyes, his chest contracting dangerously but he had not allowed himself to show the weakness. When Sirius had died, he had been almost (selfishly) grateful that both Ron and Hermione had been trapped in the hospital wing because he had done his real grieving in private. He had gone out to the lake, keeping away from curious prying eyes and only allowed the tears to fall when he had been certain that he had been completely alone.

However, the previous night he had been unable to stop himself from releasing the tears that had all but choked him. He wasn't sure how long he had stood, grasping Hermione like a lifeline, Ron standing quietly beside him, until he had pulled himself back together but he knew that when it was over he had felt better. For the first time in his memory Harry had gone to someone else not simply for help but for comfort and reassurance, and in spite of the fact that he had still suffered nightmares later he had been surprised by how much it had helped to have them near him.

However despite that comfort there was still much that Harry could not bring himself to discuss yet.

When he had gotten control over himself, Harry had only filled them in on the bare bones of what had happened- the fact that he had been taken to Malfoy Manor, that he had been tortured by the Death Eaters present but Voldemort had been too busy trying to contain the backlash of the war to reach him personally and finally his escape. He had not told gone into great detail about how he had managed to get away. They knew that Alexander Nott was dead but he had been unable to fully describe the feeling of killing someone with his bare hands. It was so much more...intimate than a spell. Harry had never directly killed another person, he had fought in battles and he had witnessed their deaths but he had never used lethal spells himself. Never actively tried to end another person's life before. When he had wiped the literal blood from his hands it had all seemed so _vicious_ and yet at the same time Harry could not truly feel guilty for what he had done.

In a lot of ways he was shocked by his own acceptance of what had happened. He had always thought that he would feel terrible for taking another person's life, no matter who they might be. He had thought that he would be irrevocably different, unable to recognize himself once he had become a true murderer. But he knew exactly who he was. He was Harry Potter, Sixth Year student, Quidditch player, loyal friend, reluctant but by no means unwilling fighter in a war. He was the same as he had been. And somehow that was the most shocking thing of all.

He was conflicted by his friendship with Theo and he had taken no joy in taking another man's life- even in self-defense- but it had been his own life or the life of the Death Eater. As far as Harry was concerned anyone who bore the mark on their arm had known when they had been branded that one way or the other death was the only way it would end. Harry had also kept the conversations he had had with Dumbledore and Snape private for the moment. Until he had figured out how he felt about them, he could not tell them but there was a distinct comfort in knowing that when he finally told them the truth, even if it was months from now, his two closest friends would understand. That they would respect his feelings and his privacy until he was ready.

Hermione had then told Harry about McLaggen. She had said that she had grown tired of being scared. The only thing her silence had given her was shame for something someone else had done and she had felt that she had suffered long enough. She had gone to McGonagall after classes had finished and told her everything, the Deputy Headmistress had then contacted the Aurors but that was where things got complicated. McLaggen was of course denying everything and his wealthy parents were fully supporting the denial. At the moment it appeared as though things were still up in the air but she had learned just before Harry had returned that it was likely that Hermione would have to testify in court, something that she had tried to sound casual about as she said it, but it was perfectly clear that the thought of speaking about her assault in such a public setting terrified her.

After catching up on their eventful week, all of them had gone to bed but despite the catharsis of Harry's minor breakdown, it still did not stop the fact that he had dredged up all of his memories before going to bed. When Harry had been too worked up to even sit still for a game of chess it had been Ron that had suggested that they work off some energy with practice dummies in their favorite hideout.

"You alright mate?" Ron asked awkwardly, as though he was unsure if he should bring further attention to why they had started dueling practice around 3:30 that morning.

Harry nodded noncommittedly as he twirled his replacement wand in his hand. Before he had been discharged from hospital the Ministry had been certain to get him a new wand so that he would not be defenseless. As it turned out when the Wizarding World was fairly convinced that you were in fact their one true hope of victory in a vicious war they could be pretty accommodating about getting you a wand when you need it. Ollivander had come with two assistants that had then helped him test a variety of wands that they thought would best match him. It had taken less time than his original wand but had still taken longer than most older wizards did when finding a second wand. Older wizards were more settled and already had a model to base things off of but unlike most cores who once separated from the creature they had come from held none of the original creature's personality or traits, those that matched with a phoenix feather matched with a specific bird rather than the core type. As Fawkes had only ever given two feathers, he was unable to use the same core and he felt that there a distinct lack of...flair to his magic.

In the end he had settled on Rowan wood that was known for its defensive charms along with a bundle of unicorn hairs, which were rarer than the single hair that was generally used. Rowan wands were known for strength in duels and combating the Dark Arts, something Harry felt was appropriate. Unicorn Hair was known to be loyal wand weiders and Ollivander had commented that the multiple strands represented strength and unity in times of hardship. Overall he felt that he should have been quite pleased with his new wand but the truth was he was far from comfortable using the still alien piece of wood in his hand. The length was slightly longer, the width slightly more narrow which felt odd in his hand. The tingle of magic that ran down his arm whenever he cast a spell felt different- perhaps more precise but less powerful.

However, nothing to change the fact that Harry felt the loss of his first wand, his first true tangible connection to the Wizarding World like a death of a loved one. It had been hard to realize that his faithful, beloved wand was lost to him forever. He had not even fully realized how much he had been relying on the twin cores until he had lost the advantage all together. The wand that had destroyed once rescued him on its own accord from Voldemort that summer was destroyed and Harry would never find anything that was as good as it had been- of that he was certain.

"I will be," Harry finally responded to Ron when he realized that he had yet to give a real answer. "I _am_ mostly. It's not... its hard to explain but it was all just... it's a lot to think about."

"You don't have to apologize Harry, Merlin I think most people would be curled up in a room in St. Mungos right about now crying their eyes out. You don't have to be alright, you know, not right away anyway."

Harry looked up in surprise at the words of wisdom from his once rather tactless friend before nodding slowly. "You know Bill's friend Sarah? She came and talked to me in hospital. Apparently its part of the protocol if you've been 'in a severely traumatic experience'."

Ron raised his eyebrow slightly but didn't look shocked that a Mind Healer would have spoken to him. "Did she say anything that helped?"

Harry shrugged, there hadn't been much to say really. "She nice enough. You know I'm not a big fan of talking to people I don't know but she wasn't... she was decent enough about it all." Ron nodded that he had gotten the same impression from the Mind Healer when they had spoken.

"She asked if I had anyone to talk to- I told her that I have you and Hermione. And she said I must have really great friends. I do mate... and I will need to talk about everything but right now..."

Ron clapped him tightly on the shoulders and said, "then you'll talk when you're ready, and in the meantime... we have a magical room that will give you all the test-dummies you could ever want to destroy. Though maybe tonight we come before bed? We'll wear you out so much that you'll be too tired to dream. You're my best friend mate, but you're not dragging me out of bed every night for this."

Harry laughed and nodded, "it's a deal. And considering we have another," Harry glanced at the clock, "18 hours before we can even think about sleeping I think that is likely that I will be too tired to dream tonight."

"Its times like this when I really miss History of Magic," Ron muttered wistfully, "what is bloke supposed to do without his mid afternoon nap?"

HPHPHPHPHP

If Harry thought his day could only improve he was very sadly mistaken when he sat down for breakfast. Hermione was sitting with Parvati, Lavender and surprisingly Ginny. Ever since the two of them had broken up, Harry had largely avoided Ginny and she had seemed to either be complying with his wishes or else she was just as eager to avoid seeing him, for she had also never sought out his company before.

"Hi Harry," Ginny greeted him nervously, her face was slightly red reminding Harry strangely of the shy little girl that he had first met at the Burrow after his First Year at Hogwarts. "I'm...really glad that you're alright. I was hoping that you wouldn't mind if I had breakfast with you?" She was shifting her weight nervously from side to side and clearly half expected him to tell her to go away but still felt the need put herself out there, to risk the rejection just to extend the olive branch. Harry felt a small swell of respect for her grow that he had not felt since he had first discovered that she had cheated on him.

Harry nodded his agreement but didn't go so far as to say that she was welcome with them. She was still Ron's sister and she had once been friends with Hermione and Harry didn't think that he should keep Ginny from others just because he didn't trust her. Even a few months later, Harry was still hurt and angry when he remembered how much he had cared about her, only to be betrayed in such a brutal way. He wasn't sure if he could ever truly trust Ginny again but enough time had passed that he had finally recognized that she had acted more out of immaturity and recklessness than malicious desire to hurt him. It did nothing to reestablish the trust between them but it did make it possible to stop the feelings of rabid anger towards her.

While they ate, Harry's classmates filled him in on what he had been missing during his absence that had not been important enough to talk about the night before. Lavender and Parvati concentrated heavily on school gossip and who was currently snogging who, Ron informed him that Ravenclaw's Quidditch team had suffered a setback with two injuries during practice and Hermione, of course, kept the conversation rooted in what he had actually missed in their classes. Hermione pulled out a bundle of notes similar to the one that she had given him after he had missed class for the Summit the first time. She gave him a slight smile as she told him that she had never doubted that he would need the notes because she had known that he would come back to them, but he could see the quiver in her lips and he knew that in spite of her fervent hope that he would survive and return to Hogwarts, she had been scared for him when he had been captured. He leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek for her concern, surprising her with the gesture as he was not usually one to initiate affection.

Less than a minute later he was thankful for the action as the _Daily Prophet_ arrived with its usual fanfare, and a less-than-usual Hogwarts student as the subject of one of its articles. The only thing to be thankful for was that it wasn't front page news. As it didn't relate to Harry Potter or the war effort it was not important enough for the headlines and so Harry had a small hope that most students wouldn't see it, however he knew it was a wasted wish for it was only a matter of time before someone saw the article and pointed it out to the rest of the school population. There, on page seven, was decent sized article entitled:

 **Muggleborn Student Accuses Pureblood of** N **onconsensual Advances**

 **Trina Culler**

 _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry has a long history of presenting dangerous situations to our children. In a school filled with untrained young witches and wizards in a castle with nearly 1000 years of magical history and energy seeped into its very walls we remember the adventures, mystery and childish pranks that consist of childhood. There are few in our world that do look back on their Hogwarts days with nostalgia and perhaps even better, a fondness for the innocence of simpler problems than the struggles that we are faced with as adults._

 _However, yesterday serious allegations were made by Muggleborn student Hermione Granger against Seventh Year Prefect and slighted-Quidditch-player-hopeful Cormac McLaggen, claiming that he had made aggressive and unwanted sexual advances towards her. Mr. McLaggen has of course denied any such actions, though he admitted that he had consented to escorting Miss Granger to a Christmas Party hosted by former professor, Horace Slughorn for students that showed particular promise. Those that remember Professor Slughorn from their own Hogwarts careers are no doubt familiar with the potion master's social connections and flair for making the correct introductions, a chance few muggleborns are given the opportunity to coordinate on their own._

 _Mr. McLaggen is a frequent guest of such events and felt that an ambitious muggleborn with few connections of her own would enjoy a night among some of the top wizards of the day. He, alongside his parents, made a statement that they were shocked and appalled that such serious allegations would be made months after the fact when little could be done to verify the events of the night. Cormac confided that the couple had parted on what he thought were polite terms when he expressed that they did not wish to pursue a further relationship with her. However, it seems that Miss Granger took offense to the dismissal of her affections. If the name Hermione Granger sounds familiar to our readers, it is because she has made news before for her questionable behavior towards men in powerful positions. Readers will remember her name as the girl that played Famous Quidditch player and visiting Drumstrang Champion Viktor Krum against the affections of our very own Harry Potter. Potter, who was only fourteen at the time, was reportedly heartbroken by her actions._

 _In fact further investigations reveal that Miss Granger might have had a long standing grudge against Mr. McLaggen. Cormac enjoys a record of good standing at Hogwarts and is known as a talented Quidditch player. Many of his fellow classmates who hold him in high esteem were shocked in the beginning of the year when the three time Summer League Champion of the Youth League was overlooked for the position of Keeper in favor of the less talented, though veteran player Ronald Weasley. Potter was blamed at the time for favoritism as Weasley and Potter have a well-known friendship, but now one has to wonder if Potter was influenced by another person- one that he was emotionally invested in in a very different way. Deliberations are set for next week but most well informed wizards should see the writing on the wall in advance._

Hermione, unfortunately, saw the article first and color drained from her face as she read it. Harry grabbed the paper, thinking at first that she had read about someone that they were close to dying, and felt pure rage build in his chest.

"That son of a bitch!" Harry snarled as Ron had to be pulled back into his seat by an angry Lavender. "Don't give him the satisfaction," she hissed. "Look at that monster, he's built like a tank. You punch him its like hitting a brick wall-"

"Er... generous Lav," Parvati chimed in, "more like a rubber wall, there is not a lot that is...solid in all that bulk," she waved her hand distastefully in his direction.

"Comes to the same thing," Lavender waved the comment away lazily, "you would have to hit through five layers of flesh to even have a chance of doing damage and if you use magic you could get suspended. We'll get him but we have to be patient."

Ginny was staring blankly at the article. "Hermione...is this true?"

"Of course it isn't true!" Harry snapped. "Hermione doesn't make up stories and she sure as hell didn't need _McLaggen_ to invite _her_ to a party for the top students- he's a year older and I would bet a thousand galleons that if they each took the NEWTs tomorrow Hermione would beat him."

"No! No I meant... did McLaggen really... did you attack you?" Ginny asked, her tone clearly horrified.

Hermione was still pale and staring at the article that had so thoroughly trashed her reputation. Making her out to be a liar and worse, a woman that actively sought after vulnerable men to use for whatever struck her fancy at the moment. She nodded vaguely but it was Parvati that spoke up, "oh right, I forgot I guess that you never did wait for Harry to really explain what he was doing that night you were making him out to be two-timing sleaze to the Common Room. You were so upset about them spending time together I guess you never really waited to find out why Hermione would come back with her eyes all red and Harry read to kill someone. Of course...I'm just guessing here, but the night that Ginny decided to call you out _was_ the night you were comforting you best friend over the fact that she was assaulted, isn't that right Harry?" she asked with false innocence.

Several weeks ago Harry would have been shocked that Parvati had figured all of that out. He had never wound up discussing the fight that had contributed to Ginny cheating on him, nor had he explained why he had been so secretive about where he had been with Hermione, however he now had learned that Lavender and Parvati took their crown as resident Hogwarts gossip queens to heart. They paid careful attention to all details and were uncommonly good at filling in the holes of a story later when they had all the right information.

Ginny's mouth dropped open and her eyes widened in a combination of guilt and horror. "That...you mean..."

Harry nodded, seeing no reason to keep it a secret any longer and trying not to enjoy the feeling of seeing first hand that Ginny had at long last realized just how low she had sunk to pick that moment to call up all of her petty insecurities. Harry had been helping a friend in need and the fact that his own girlfriend had not known him well enough to give him the benefit of the doubt had stung. When had he ever been the type to betray the people that he cared about? Ginny had been so absorbed in what _she_ had wanted and _she_ had felt that she deserved that she had paid no mind to the fact that Hermione had clearly been in pain and struggling for quite some time.

"I...I am so sorry Harry...Hermione," she didn't seem to know who to direct her remorse towards, or perhaps unsure what she should apologize for first- the situation that Hermione had been forced into or her own actions.

"Hermione...what he did, that's...its awful. I was a bitch, and the worst part is that I knew it too. I knew that you weren't messing around with Harry and I didn't care, I just wanted to get him to tell me everything. It was stupid and it was selfish and I really am sorry that I put you right in the middle of it."

Hermione seemed to shake a bit out of her stupor before narrowing her eyes at Ginny, "I do appreciate the apology, but honestly I wish it had come before you knew that Harry was with me because I needed him. It shouldn't matter that I was attacked- what you did that night, you did to hurt us. Harry is my best friend and you were one of the closest friends I've ever had. I...before the last couple of weeks," Hermione nodded at Lavender and Parvati, "I never really had any girlfriends, Ginny, and you knew that I valued our friendship. I never would have gone behind your back with Harry. And you know that Harry wouldn't have done that either."

Ginny nodded, head bowed, her eyes titled up so that she was looking at them through her lashes. "You're right. I wish I had a better excuse... I don't. I was angry and... I was jealous. Because Harry told you all the things I wanted to know... but," and here she looked at Harry. "I've thought a lot about that last conversation that we've had and you were right. You didn't owe it to me to tell me everything just because we were dating, or just because you said you cared about me. What I owed you was trust and... honestly it kills me that I ruined that. I liked you Harry, I really wanted things to work out...I- I still do," she admitted, her face turning flaming red with the admission, "but even if I've ruined that for us forever, the thing I really can't stand is that you can't trust me at all."

Harry let out a heavy breath, unprepared for this discussion. He had moved past his relationship with Ginny and with how busy things had been for him he could honestly say that he had not given it much thought. He knew that he was still hurt by her actions but beyond that he had not had much time to consider how he might feel in the future. "Ginny... I don't know if I can trust you again," he told her honestly. "I would like to say that I could but..." he shrugged, "I honestly don't know. But I would like to try and at least start to be friends. I don't want to be angry with you anymore. I don't want to feel like we can't be in the same room or talk to our friends because the other one is there. So...why don't we start there?"

Ginny nodded, her eyes suddenly a bit bright, though thankfully no actual tears appeared. She let out a huff of air and seemed to shake herself, and seemed to make a conscious decision to change topics before more could be said. "But this article! How can they print something like that?"

Lavender huffed impatiently, her attention already shifting to matter at hand. "that's obvious enough. Look at the byline- it's a nobody. Trina Culler was a copy editor at Witch Weekly, she wanted to be a reporter but from what I heard she could never get in with the really good dirt. She had a couple of articles but they were so boring that she didn't last. No one important wanted to talk to her until she made a name for herself and she couldn't make a name for herself without talking to anyone important so wound up with the _Daily Prophet_ gossip page-"

"Which everyone knows is second hand trash, nothing like the mags," Parvati interjected. "I mean...unless you're counting their top reporters. They get the news _and_ the dirt, its amazing. Rita Skeeter is like... a goddess. She might be my true hero. She gets the best information...I worship her."

"Though she really scaled things back the last year," Lavender interjected with obvious disappointment. "All of the sudden she was just...gone from the Headlines. I thought she was writing a book or something. I don't how she got you to do that interview for the _Quibbler_ last year Harry but before that...you would think that the reporter with access to the TriWizard Tournment would stay at the top of her game but all of the sudden she just... disappeared."

"Until the Quibbler," Parvati corrected.

"Of course. So really... I always meant to ask but we weren't close last year, how did Skeeter get you to do an interview Harry? I mean after she really sort of roasted you during the Tournament. She did write that whole 'Dangerous and Disturbed' thing, right?"

"Gee I'd forgotten," Harry answered drily while Ron laughed and nudged his girlfriend in the side. "You two- legendary gossip queens- you actually believed all that rubbish." Harry shook his head in mock anger as Ron seemed to take equal pleasure in insulting both his girlfriend's self-proclaimed true talent and his best friend's press misfortune.

"Skeeter is a bloody hack, Lavender," Ron laughed.

"Then why did Harry give the biggest interview of the year to her?" Lavender asked affronted at having to defend her hero.

"Because Hermione is a bloody evil genius and if you think that trash makes her look bad you should see what she really does to someone when you step out of line with her," Harry explained with a proud smile in Harry's direction.

"I heard that Marietta is finally able to show her face again. All it took was few hundred galleons and about a dozen hours of treatment in St. Mungos. And that was when she gave everyone fair warning."

"Fair warning?" Ginny asked raising an eyebrow slightly at that. She raised her hands a bit as though to show that she didn't want to start a fight so soon after she had apologized to Hermione for her behavior before saying, "not saying she didn't get what was coming to her for selling us out to Umbridge but I don't think any of us saw that one coming. You call that fair warning?"

Hermione bristled slightly, "I told everyone that if you sign you're agreeing not tell anyone. She was the one that broke her word. Just because I didn't tell everyone that there would be consequences for lying does mean that they should assume that it's fine to betray us!"

"And so how did Hermione get the number one selling reporter to do anything," Lavender asked with a growing grin.

Harry glanced right and left and leaned in slightly, subtly casting the muffliato under his breath just in case, "Blackmail. Skeeter is an illegal animagus."

Lavender and Parvati looked as though Christmas had come early with kind of gossip.

"And you found out and confronted her?"

Ron and Harry both chuckled a bit at that, though neither revealed that the truth was a rather more... sadistic. Hermione had trapped Rita Skeeter in a glass jar for over a week before letting her go with the terms of their agreement.

"Pretty much," they answered in union.

All three girls looked rather stunned at this revelation before Parvati started laughed, "Hermione I'm glad I never got on your bad side."

Lavender, however, let a truly sinister smile crossover her features, "oh you have Rita Skeeter at your beck and call this changes _everything._ "

HPHPHPHP

Harry's morning had dragged on forever, for the moment he was trying to push all of his problems to the back of his mind and worry about one thing at a time. If he concentrated on Dumbledore's seeming betrayal, Snape's confession and Hermione's latest problems at all once he thought he might go mad. However, he could not avoid thinking about the coming conversation that he needed to have and it was weighing heavily on his mind. His stomach had twisted into to knots at the thought of having to explain everything to a person that would never forgive him. McGonagall's lecture had washed over him like white noise. He caught the normally stern professor shooting him a few covert looks of concern and she seemed to be abnormally accommodating towards his lack of attention, which he was exceeding grateful for. He made an absent note in his mind to try extra hard on the assigned essay as a means of making it up to her.

After the class was released he had the impression that the professor had wanted to speak to him but before she could make a formal request for him to stay behind he had scrambled out as quickly as possible. He darted quickly through the corridors, knowing the Slytherins would be coming out of Charms.

"Theo!" Harry called firmly but not loud enough to grab too many people's attention to him.

"Not now Potter," Daphne told him as Theo kept walking with Tracy Davis at his side, his posture rigid and his face pointedly turned away from having to look at Harry. Harry looked around Daphne's body to see Theo's retreating form. "I just need a minute..."

"It's not is responsibility to forgive you," she said coldy.

Harry blinked and suddenly stopped his movements to get a look at the Slytherin boy, "that's not why I'm here," he said. "I...I thought he might want to know what happened. No one else has heard everything yet...I had to make a statement in the hospital for the Aurors before I left and Dumbledore knows, but they only know that it happened. They don't know what led up to it, or...well everything... and I thought Theo had a right to know...I mean only if he wanted that is. I know that I would have wanted to know."

Daphne gave him a hard look for a moment before it softened, "I'm glad that you're alright," she admitted quietly, taking Harry slightly by surprise. It was probably the nicest thing that Daphne had ever openly told him before and he found himself rather touched that there had been note of relief in her voice as she had spoken.

"Thanks..." he shrugged before admitting, "so am I honestly, since I didn't particularly like my chances."

She nodded as though this was just a simple fact, which it was. Harry knew that some people might have thought that he was trying to play the false modest but the real truth was Harry had not expected to be able to survive and he found himself vaguely surprised that somewhere along the way Daphne Greengrass had become a person that recognized how he felt.

Daphne paused for a moment, seeming to consider what she about to say before finally deciding on her course, "Harry...Slytherin House has a very...unique perspective on a lot of things. I know that to someone of so much...Gryffindor integrity it might seem like we're all..." she was obviously struggling, unsure how to phrase what she meant to say in terms she knew he would understand.

Harry chose that moment to throw her a bone, "I happen to know the difference between pragmatism and pure evil, Daphne. I'm not saying I always agree but I do understand where most of Slytherin is coming from, not wanting to get involved in a fight without being sure that you're going to win."

Daphne raised her eyebrows at him before breaking into a soft smile, "every once in a while Potter you really do surprise me, and that's not even when you're escaping from impossible scenarios. I used to think that you were... impossibly naïve. That you saw things in black and white and that anyone who follows the Dark Lord must be evil."

Harry frowned slightly. "Honestly... the world isn't as grey as most people like to think it is, Daphne. Right and wrong exist in the world."

Daphne shook her head, "but right and wrong vary on the situation."

Harry inclined his head in acknowledgement of her statement, "sometimes but... it's easier than you think to convince yourself that what you're doing is alright because you think you're doing it for the right reasons. I understand that choices aren't simple and I trust me, I understand more than most what it means to sacrifice the things that you care about... even if it's your morality, but just because it's an incredibly hard decision to make, or just because you might suffer from it, doesn't mean that there isn't a difference between doing the right thing and the wrong thing."

Daphne was looking at him thoughtfully, her head tilted slightly and Harry knew that he had surprised her. She had expected to give him a lesson on the hard facts of life but she had not expected him to have thought his feelings through about it all already.

Harry wasn't sure why he felt the sudden need to press his point, maybe because after months of working together he had grown to genuinely like Daphne and the fact that she and her family had continued to stay on the sidelines of the continually escalating war galled him. He understood their fear, he understood the fact that they were trying to do their best to protect themselves and their family but it didn't change the fact that everyone who stood aside and allowed Voldemort more power simply because they were not being targeted at the moment only helped him further his agenda. You could not be neutral against oppression and hatred.

"You'll never convince me that any of the Death Eaters are serving some sort of higher purpose. Or that the Dark Arts are... misunderstood. But I can understand that there are families that get too involved before they can get out. I understand sacrificing doing the right thing to protect the people that you care about. But Daphne... in the end everyone has to accept responsibility for the choices that they make. If you're not against Voldemort, you're with him."

Daphne's widened slightly and Harry wondered if it had sounded like a threat. After a moment she nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Listen, Potter...you should know that Theo... and a lot of us quite frankly, we like you." She shrugged and gave him a half smile, as though embarrassed by the confession and perhaps she was. Daphne was rarely affectionate towards anyone and Harry recognized that it wasn't easy for her to say something like that to him.

"Everyone who knows you can see that you love your friends but more importantly it's obvious that they love you, they would do anything for you. I might not have the...'close personal relationship with the Dark Lord' that you have but I know enough to know that his servants...aren't anything other than servants. Some are loyal to the cause but others are just... playing the odds that he's stronger and will win. Harry... the tide is shifting. You're not... people underestimated you." She laughed slightly to herself and shook her head.

"Honestly speaking... I don't get it Potter. You're not in the top _five_ of our class, you're powerful I'll give you that one but well... from what I hear about the glory days of the Dark Lord you're not that powerful. The best that can be said of any special skills you have is that you're fairly good on a broomstick..."

"Fairly good?" Harry asked slightly insulted. There were not many skills that Harry was truly boastful about but his flying was definitely one of them.

"I was going to throw in your humility but that's squashed now," Daphne threw back at him. "The point is... we underestimated...something about you. I don't know if its skill or luck... or just the fact that you are honestly the best person I know. Things are changing Potter. We didn't follow Dumbledore but... well I thought it best to let you know that people are talking and if you can find a way to work with us, we might follow you."

It was Harry's turn to blink at her in surprise. It was the last thing he had expected her to say to him. Malfoy and most of the Slytherins had made his Hogwarts years fairly miserable. Taunting him at the best of times, actively bullying him at the worst but as he thought back he realized that this year had been different. Malfoy and his cronies had largely left him alone and people like Theo and Daphne had actually proven to be friends. He had not thought much of it. Despite what he had told Ron and Hermione at the beginning of the year about trying to build alliances in the war he had not seriously considered the idea that they would ever want to _follow_ him.

"Just think it over Potter and if you're interested in making a few new friends... come find me."

HPHPHPHP

Harry was coming out of the Great Hall, he was tired from the day and wanted nothing more than to go back to the dorm and draw the curtains around his bed. His mind was too busy for sleep but he needed the quiet and preferably the dark... which naturally meant that Theo Nott had chosen that exact moment to have the conversation Harry wanted to have least in the world.

"Potter..." Theo called even as Harry had seen the tall, skinny boy catch his eyes. "Can I get a minute."

It was phrased as a question but the tone left nothing open for negotiation, not that Harry would denied him, no matter how much he might have wanted to. In spite of the fact that he had sought Nott out himself earlier that day, Harry found himself reluctant to follow the Slytherin into the deserted alcove he was headed towards. For the past few days the words that he would need to say to the other boy had been circling in his mind. He had tried to plan out what he would say, how he could explain things so that Theo could understand, but there was nothing he could say. Harry knew enough to know that in Theo's eyes what he had done was unforgivable. He had taken the life of someone that he cared about and there was no coming back from that.

As selfish as it might seem, part of him was grateful that at least Theo had had not kept him waiting for the other shoe to drop. There had been no question in Harry's mind that the other boy would eventually have the desire- the need- to know what had happened to his father. He wasn't sure what kind of relationship the two had shared but they had apparently been close enough that the Slytherin had mentioned his thoughts on Harry to his father. Nott senior had seemed disappointed in Theo's lack of fighting ability but it was countered with pride at his tactical thinking, his political savviness. Eventually Theo would have needed to understand exactly what had happened to end the man's life and Harry had hated the idea of the conversation hanging over his head.

Theo stood before him rather awkwardly, his hands moving to fold across his chest before dropping limply to his sides. Harry could see the dark circles under his eyes, the paleness of his skin and pinched quality of his face. Frankly he was surprised that the other boy had remained at school, he would have thought he would have at least left to make arrangements. Perhaps he had been worried that as a Death Eater's son if he had left the sanctuary of the school than he would not be permitted back in.

Theo cleared his throat before finally speaking, "Daphne told me that you wanted to explain what happened, do you think it's that easy?" the boy asked, arms folded once more across his chest and face stern. "That you can just... just explain and say what...that you're sorry? _Are_ you sorry?" He demanded.

Harry let out a slow breath. It was one of those brief moments when one was sure that even years later they would remember every detail of a conversation, even as it was happening. "I'm sorry that he was your father...I'm sorry that it went down the way that it did...that I didn't have another option or I couldn't see one."

"But you're not sorry that he's dead," Theo stated baldly.

The lie was on the tip of his tongue, the lie that would make the other boy feel better, that would make Harry feel better for being charitable towards a man that had held him captive. It would have been easy to say that he was sorry and that he wished he could have escaped without hurting anyone else- but it would be a lie. And in spite of the strangeness of it all, somehow Theo Nott had been his friend and it had been a friendship based on the fact that Harry had never lied to him. Harry had always been honest with the other boy and felt that it would be poor form to start now.

"No." Theo's eyes widened and it was clear that it was not the response that he had been expecting. Harry continued before he could respond. "I wish I could say that I was sorry...honestly..." Harry shook his head, trying to work out how to put into words exactly what he felt about killing a man in such a brutal fashion.

However the only thing he could think to say that would matter was, "I want you to know that I didn't...I didn't enjoy myself. I didn't like it."

Theo looked up at him in surprise. "So it was... I mean I wasn't sure if it was you..." he blinked as though taking in the full statement and Harry realized that although Theo had been told that his father had been killed during Harry's escape he had not been told that it had been Harry that had killed him personally. It was clear that the other boy had suspected it but perhaps he had convinced himself that the man had been killed in the crossfire.

Nott nodded as though coming to grips with what he had probably known on some level before he let out a long breath and said quietly, "I wasn't sure it was you. I think it probably means something that I actually hoped that it was the Death Eaters that had done it." He was quiet for a long moment before he slowly shook his head and said, "I never thought that you would like it, you're not really the type."

Harry nodded his understanding but it felt like he needed to explain himself more fully. "Last June, Bellatrix Lestrange murdered my godfather... he was... the important person in the world to me and she killed him and laughed. And then she... mocked me about it. I don't know if you care, I don't know if it even really matters... the first memory I remember having is Voldemort laughing as he killed my mum so I don't know if makes a difference if the person feels bad about what they did, or if...dead is just dead, but I thought it might matter that I didn't enjoy it."

Nott winced slightly at the bluntness of the words and Harry himself grimaced at how tactless he sounded. But then, the truth was death was blunt, and tactless. He shrugged apologetically and took a deep breath as he finally got to what he needed to say. "I was at Malfoy Manor, I can't say I was surprised to find out that a family like the Malfoys have a real dungeon," he commented with disgust. "They locked me up and they would take turns...questioning me." Theo's eyes traveled to a thin scar that ran down the left side of his neck. The Healers had done a remarkable job on him and for the most part the evidence of his torture was nearly nonexistent, but there were some curses that no magic could cure. Dark cutting curses that left marks. One on his neck, three more on his left thigh, four on his right and several more- thin wispy lines- on his back. Reminders of his time there.

Harry swallowed but he was not going to go into all of the details, it wasn't important at the moment because the salient point was, "your father... he wasn't terrible to me. Mostly when he was there he would just talk. Try to get a rise out of me. Tease me a bit." He gestured to his neck, "this isn't from him. In a lot of ways... well he wouldn't have been my first choice of people to go after."

"So how did it happen?"

"He was the only one there and I had a sharp piece of slate. It was my only chance and I took it. I can't say that I'm sorry Theo, because... I can't say that I wouldn't do it again... but I wish it wasn't him... and I really, truly wish it wasn't your father."

Theo's eyes were wide and his face pale, "a piece of slate?"

"I stabbed him. In the neck. It was quick and he couldn't scream...he didn't see me coming behind him or he would have fought me off." Harry explained, not sure what else to say.

Theo looked rather stunned with the pure muggle nature of his father's death and Harry waited to see if the other both would speak again, when he remained silent Harry cleared his throat awkwardly. "I took his wand from him," Harry pulled out the stolen wand and handed it to the other boy, "I thought you might want it."

"For the funeral," Theo noted absently as he took the piece of wood with numb fingers.

"Yeah," Harry answered, though he had not thought about a funeral when he had decided that Theo might want his father's wand. He had never been to a wizarding funeral- any funeral actually- and not realized that the wizard's wand would be needed but he did know the feeling of wanting something important to a person that had you had lost.

Theo was quiet for a moment before saying, "I'm appreciate you telling me everything, I know most people wouldn't. My father...he's someone that you would probably never understand. He always believed that wizards were superior because of the power of magic and he thought it was unnatural for us to be the ones in hiding. He spent my entire childhood telling me about how things would have been better if the Dark Lord had succeeded. He's not... he was never a terrible person he was just one that believed that in order to build something better, you have to tear down what's standing in the way."

Harry nodded, knowing how the man had felt. Not only had he spoken to the man himself but he had been present in more than one vision in which Harry had been exposed to the feelings of the Death Eaters and knew that the Senior Nott had been a true believer. While he had certainly been harsh and cruel when he needed to be, and he merciless to those he deemed inferior to himself, he had not been one of the people that joined for destruction alone, he had truly believed that they would be building a new world order.

Harry didn't bother to tell Theo that despite what he might think, it wasn't that he didn't understand Nott's feelings- it was that they disgusted him. Because the idea of wizards not having to hide was an excuse for putting muggles under the shoe of wizards everywhere. Forcing them into little more slavery and then calling it 'the natural order of things'. Wizards had the power to control those weaker than themselves and therefore should go unquestioned in their tasks- Magic was Might. Except that the ability to do something did not equate to having the right to do it and Harry despised the twisted logic that so many Death Eaters engaged in to justify their actions. But he knew it wasn't the time to say that now.

Theo licked his dry lips as he stared down at his father's wand. "I spent most of my life believing what he told me...I never had any reason to think that he would have been wrong."

"Do you think he was wrong now?" Harry asked quietly.

Theo shrugged and shook his head uncertainly, "I have no idea but in the last few months it started to dawn on me that someday really soon the Dark Lord is going to assume that I want to join him...because of my father, and if I did it would be for life. There's no going back and...I never once wondered if he was right about everything that he was doing. It seems like if you're going to fight in a war, if you're going to pledge your entire life to someone...you should at least know that they're right about what they're doing."

Harry raised his eyebrows, "on that, you and I agree perfectly. Theo...this might come across as biased advice considering its coming form me but keep in mind that Voldemort doesn't give a damn about anyone. Everyone knows that he doesn't care about Muggles or Muggleborns but he doesn't care about the Purebloods either. He tortures his followers as indiscriminately as he does the people that fight against him and he could less if they die for him or not. You're father wanted to build something but Voldemort thrives on destruction and fear. Honestly, I'm not sure if he's even given any real thought to what he'll do if he does win this war. He'll enjoy running the country for a few years, he'll love the fact that he's the unquestioned ruler...and then he'll move to destroy it all because he's not interested in peace or stability. Running an empire isn't nearly as much fun as destroying one. He'll grow bored and when he does...what happens then? Just something to keep in mind."

Theo stared at him for a long moment before slowing inclining his head in acknowledgement. "I'll definitely think about it. Potter... he was my father, I can't forgive you for what you did but...I can't hate you for it either." There was a strange kind of regret as he said it, as though Theo were disappointed in himself for being unable to hate Harry for his actions, and in a lot of ways Harry supposed he would be.

Harry nodded his understanding, the weight that had been in his chest loosening slightly. Theo gave him a long, unreadable look before shaking his head slightly and turning away to go return to the Slytherin Common Room.

 **A/N: Thank you all so much for your reviews**

 **So I really debated back and forth whether or not to have Snape pull off a hail mary and return Harry's phoenix wand because I am always irrationally upset when he losses it in fics but I could not see Snape potentially blowing his cover as a spy to recover a wand when it could just be replaced and there was no way that Voldemort would have allowed Harry's wand be casually laying around- in canon he had a reward set for his wand so he obviously wants it destroyed so it had to be replaced.**

 **There are several times when it specifically mentioned that a wand has a single unicorn hair, so I figure if it has to be stated that there is only one inside than it makes it possible for some wands to have multiple hairs. I have no idea if that's accurate but...well between you and me, there are no real wand cores anyway.**

 **Since I had no idea what the types of woods meant I looked at the wiki and it had this, which I personally felt fit Harry pretty perfectly:**

 _ **Rowan wands generally produce powerful, hard to break Defensive Charms. Rowan wands was also noted for its believed disassociation with the Dark Arts. Perhaps for these reasons, rowan has become associated with pure-hearted wizards, though Ollivander noted that rowan wands can also match or even outperform others in duels.**_


	40. Trial and Tribulations

**Chapter 40: Trial and Tribulations**

Hermione smoothed down her dress robes once more, her foot nervously tapping on the stone floor, causing the noise to echo down the currently empty corridor. She was waiting to be called into the hearing so that he could give her testimony regarding her assault and she did not think that any amount of pre-exam jitters were as bad as how she felt at the moment.

For the first time she briefly regretted her insistence that her parents not be contacted about anything. She was seventeen which meant that the decision was hers and she knew full well that her father would blame the magical world for what had happened. He couldn't know, not ever, but there had been many times Hermione had wished she could have spoken to her mother about everything that had happened. Especially as it felt more and more as though events were careening away from her control even as she struggled to reclaim the precious control that she had lost already.

She had not expected for things to move as quickly as they had. In the muggle world it was often several weeks if not a few months before an official court date came up, however it had only been a week since she had first spoken to the Aurors and even less time since the papers had gotten a hold of the story. Cases in which Hogwarts students were reprimanded outside of the school's authority were rare but it had turned out that Harry had been right to say that Cormac would be arrested for hurting her. He was of legal age and had committed one of the few acts that the school charter specifically directed to the criminal courts. Hermione had learned that rape was actually considered a rather complicated issue in the Wizarding World due to their outdated view on a lot of laws.

On the one hand, wealthy Purebloods of the past had wanted to demonize anyone that had taken the precious virginity of their daughters and had thus made her 'unsuitable' for marriage. Hermione was fairly disgusted by the attitude that the rape of a young woman was considered more damaging to the family reputation than to her own body and wellbeing. There had once been laws that if sexual intercourse had taken place, no matter the circumstances, than the girl's family could demand a marriage, it was quite clear that the girl's opinions on the matter were irrelevant in the face of what her father wanted. Thankfully that was no longer the case, not that Hermione would have had much to fear on that front. As much as she hated to even imagine her father's reaction to what had happened, she was at the very least confident that he would never want to tie her in marriage to someone that had violently violated her. No, her father's reaction was more likely to be her estrangement from Hogwarts and the rest of the Wizarding World.

However, that led directly into the other problem. She was a Muggleborn and as such the law seemed to feel that a Pureblood was only taking what he was entitled to. Hermione had been horrified to read in the library that there was a feeling among some older Purebloods that she should even feel grateful for the attentions of someone above her 'station'. It was true that it was the opinion of wizards that had been written almost two centuries ago but considering the secret but strong Death Eater following within the Wizengamot, Hermione did not doubt that there were some that still held onto that belief.

As terrifying as it was to have to recount the sorted details of their encounter in front of a group of strangers, Hermione was also relieved that it was happening so quickly. The past week had been horrible. Culler's article had spread around the school like wildfire and in spite of the fact that several girls had been avoiding Cormac for weeks on just vague rumors of the dangers that he posed, after the attack on her own character she had been the one that had been demonized. She could not pass through the halls without hearing the whispers of slut, liar, _mudblood_.

As a consummate teacher's pet from her first day of primary school, Hermione was no stranger to teasing or bullying. Before she had made friends with Ron and Harry, Hermione had never been able to forge a real friendship with anyone. She had always been seen as too bossy, too boring, too caught up in following the rules for other kids to want to hang out with. It hadn't helped that at the tender age of eight Hermione had much preferred to sit in with the adults and listen to them talk than to run around with other kids when her parents took her their friends' houses. Most adults called her 'mature' or 'an old soul'- most kids had called her snobby and a snitch...as she got older there were those that had another word that rhythmed with 'snitch'.

Still nothing in her past had fully prepared her for the blowback that she had gotten for having the audacity for being attacked and then reporting it. Everyone seemed convinced that the only accurate statement that had been made was that is she and McLaggen had had sex. The fact that it was forced onto her against her will, that she had fought him as hard as she could or that she had suffered from it for weeks afterwards were irrelevant when up against the scandalous fact that she had had sex.

Romilda Vane, a particularly vile Fourth Year student that had tried on more than one occasion to insinuate herself into Harry's life as a romantic partner, had even had the nerve to tell Hermione while several people were in earshot that it 'it takes two after all.' The thought of that smug little tart assuming the worst simply because everyone knew that she happened to be easiest girl in the school and assumed that everyone else was as bad as herself set Hermione's teeth on edge. It was actually a comforting feeling, it was easier to feel angry than scared and upset. The wry thought struck her that she was beginning to take after Harry.

Hermione had never been more thankful for her Gryffindor classmates. Ron and Harry both had been excellent friends to her, supporting her, helping her, giving her nothing but steadfast loyalty. She did not think the three of them had ever been closer and she loved both dearly for all the help they had given her, even if it had been a simple cup of tea late at night when she had been unable to sleep. The other Sixth Year Gryffindors had been almost equally as supportive. Lavender, Parvati along with Seamus, Dean and a suddenly shy Neville had also offered their support. Neville had offered her some kind words, telling her that anyone that believed the article was nothing but an idiot. He spoken sincerely and warmly but he had been obviously uncertain how she would take his words after what he had done to Harry. She had smiled at the gesture and gave him a warm hug, letting him know that they were still friends. Harry himself had told her that he did not expect her to choose sides between them, it was a lie of course, both of them knew that there was no choice, Hermione would always stand with Harry. However, she was comforted by the fact that she was free to be friends with the both of them and hoped that if she accepted the peace offering than perhaps in time Harry too would recover from the betrayal and Neville and Harry might someday be friends once more.

"Miss Granger? We're ready to take your statement now," a short, rather frumpy little witch came out and broke Hermione from her furious but anxiety-ridden musing. She had a cool, professional manner about her but Hermione detected a bit of warmth behind her eyes when she had addressed her.

"Yes ma'am, thank you," Hermione answered hoping that she sounded calm and collected rather than panicked. She desperately wished that either Ron or Harry could have come with her but as neither one of them had been present at the time of the assault they were not witnesses and therefore not permitted into the hearing as they were also not family members.

Thankfully it was closed hearing. Due to the 'delicate' nature of the case, and the fact that the McLaggen family was rich and certainly didn't want their dirty laundry aired around for everyone to hear, they had been granted their request to have a three person panel. Madame Bones, as Head of the DMLE would be presiding over two other Wizengamot judges and they would reach a decision privately. The only other people in the room would be McLaggen, his parents, their solicitor and Harry's solicitor Martin Tisdale who had agreed to represent her at Harry's urging for her not to go without legal aid.

Hermione walked shakily into the room, taking care to move with at least the appearance of confidence. She was a Gryffindor and had done nothing wrong, she was not the one on trial and she refused to act as though she should be afraid of the truth. She had asked Cormac to come to a party, she had not invited him to kiss her and she had certainly not asked for anything more. She had been emphatic with her refusal and he had forced himself on her. He deserved punishment and she deserved to be the one that ensured that he got it. She had rarely appreciated having Harry and Ron as friends more than she had done the last few weeks. She knew that they wanted nothing more than to curse McLaggen soundly or to simply beat the large boy into submission regardless of his bulk but they had known without her ever having to tell them that this was not their fight, it was hers. She felt as though Harry understood enough from his own experiences that some things needed to be settled personally, that you could not have another person protect you, but it had been Ron that had really surprised her. She was fairly sure that Harry had said something to their ginger friend about respecting boundaries and having her be the one to sort things but she still loved the support that he had given her by not insisting that he be the one to take care of things.

"Miss Granger, thank you for coming today, we are well aware that this a delicate issue and one that is difficult for you to discuss but I would ask you swear an oath to promise to tell the truth as you know it, can you do that?" Madame Bones asked gently.

"Yes ma'am," Hermione answered respectfully. She raised her wand and the oath took effect. Cormac had already given his statement but the rules of the closed Hearing stated that neither of the parties were able to hear what the other said about the events of the case. The Oath, when bound by magic, was far more effective than a normal oath in a muggle courtroom where a person's word alone ensured that they were trustworthy unless there was some other evidence provided to contradict their claim but Hermione had been surprised to learn in the past week how easily the Oaths were routinely circumvented. In a strange sort of abstract way she knew that she should not have been terribly surprised. Dozens of known and confirmed Death Eaters had escaped prosecution and Sirius had not even been given the benefit of a trial at all. If honesty or secrecy Oaths were as full proof as a common muggle might have assumed than there would have never been any miscarriages of justice at all.

Instead the Oath ensured that person on the stand answered all questions honestly but with as much leeway in answering as possible. Strong compulsion charms were considered Dark Magic and were not permitted in a court of law and so the only thing that they could do was ensure that no outright lie was uttered from the person speaking. For instance if a person was asked if they had been coerced into working for the Dark Lord- as so many of the former Death Eaters had been asked in their trials- then they could respond that yes they had felt immense coercion, that they had been 'compelled' to work for the man. The implication, of course, being that the coercion was something as sinister as the Imperious Curse when in fact most of the Death Eaters had felt 'compelled' by his charm and the fact that he had been certain to win against the Ministry. They had been compelled by their greed not magic.

Knowing that information, Hermione planned to make her description of events as detailed as possible so that there could be no doubt as to whom to believe. Anything uttered aloud under the Oath must be truthfully spoken and so Hermione knew by making it clear that she had done everything in her power to stop McLaggen's advances the court would have to find him guilty.

The interview went as expected, Hermione swore her Oath and then detailed the events of the night in her own words. How both she and Cormac had received invitations to Slughorn's party, how she had asked him to come with her but she had quickly regretted her decision when he had been rude to her and the other guests, how he had been proved to be conceited about his own Quidditch skills and dominated every conversation talking about them, and finally how he been all too eager to get her under the mistletoe multiple times and she had tried to evade him again and again.

Madame Bones was calm and respectful. Asking a few questions to help clarify a few points here and there but largely allowing Hermione to go at her own pace when she spoke and for that she was grateful. It was easier to get everything without too many interruptions.

When she got the point in which she had to describe how McLaggen had gotten her into a private room, supposedly just so they could talk and Hermione had intended to say her goodbyes for the night, she found it difficult to fully describe how terrified she had been when he had grabbed her wrist, holding them firmly and making it impossible for her to get to her wand. How she had struggled, how she had fought and tried to yell but she hadn't been able to get away before he had had her firmly pinned against the wall and at his mercy. She had hoped that she would not have to go into too much detail over the actual rape but they had needed a full detail of events so as to catalog all injuries as well as make it clear that at no point Hermione had shown interest in the physical relationship. Hermione felt angry and insulted that it should matter at all if she had later shown interest- she had not, but the point was irrelevant. She had said no. She had refused sexual intercourse and refused it emphatically, that should have been the only thing that mattered.

It was difficult to find the right words but once she had started it was also a relief in a way. She had told Ron and Harry what had happened and a few others had found out but she never before gone into real detail and for the first time she could see the benefit of talking to a counselor about her experiences. When she had spoken to Professor McGonagall a Mind Healer had once again been suggested but she had shied away from the idea. She knew that Ron and Harry had both not wanted to talk to one and felt that she should be just as strong and carry on by herself. It seemed that Harry had had much worse experiences than herself if he didn't need to speak to a counselor than she should not have to either, but perhaps that had been more foolish pride than strength. She and Harry thought about things differently, processed things differently and to assume that their manner of coping with things would be same was naïve.

However, the real difficulty came with the cross examination that she was subjected to McLaggen's attorney, a Mr. Lanker who seemed to fulfill muggle stereotype that most lawyers were slimy, money hungry sharks.

"Miss Granger is it not correct that you were the one that initiated the invitation to the party?"

"Yes I was."

"Then is it really so hard to imagine that Mr. McLaggen would assume a romantic interest on your part? I cannot imagine that you did not realize the implications of inviting a young man to party as your date?" the oily man asked leadingly.

Hermione let out a slow breath, making sure her temper get away from her, "I don't believe that there are any implications implied with a polite invitation to a party, particularly a school function designed to rewards some of the top students, sir."

"Yes you maintain that this was an innocent school function with no 'implications' involved and yet we have seen the type of dress that you wore to this 'innocent school function'. Tell us Miss Granger, I'm aware that Hogwarts usually provides school uniform but baring the necessity of it, do you feel that you would dress as you did for that party in an 'innocent school setting'?"

Hermione swallowed and remembered what Harry had once told her. "Sir I was aware that I was on a date, I was even aware of what a boy might want out of it but it was a first date and while I may have dressed in a way to make myself and even my date feel that I am attractive that still bares nothing on his actions. Attraction is not consent and the fact that I wore a dress that Cormac found attractive is not an excuse for anything that he did to me."

There were some more questions, each relating to Hermione's actions both regarding her behavior with McLaggen and the fact that all of her close friends were males and Hermione found it hard to keep her annoyance out of her voice. She hated the fact that there was assumed guilt on her part merely because of the fact that she had extended the invitation and wore a low cut dress. It was all the worse because these were all doubts that she herself had struggled with and it was only after a few months perspective that she was finally starting to accept that she had not been at fault. Now it felt as though all of her old insecurities were being thrown in her face and proven true.

The court was dismissed and all they could do was await the verdict. Hermione had never missed Ron and Harry more than in that moment.

HPHPHPHP

Draco scowled down as he took notes throughout the lecture from Tackley. There was no denying that Tackley was the best Defense teacher that they had ever had, though a few Gryffindors still maintained that the werewolf Lupin had been better. Draco considered this to be sentimental nonsense and found it insane for them to think that studying stupid magical creatures that any sensible, civilized wizard would likely never come across constituted better lessons than a woman that thought them not only how to use offensive and defensive magic but how to think critically about a dangerous situation.

Well... think _rationally_ about a dangerous situation, Draco inwardly corrected himself, as he once again copied down the point blank protocol for the situation that they were addressing today. Today was home invasion- if hostile wizards were able to tear through your protective enchantments and into your home how could you get yourself and other family members to safety.

Potter had been unusually quiet during this particular lecture. Usually he had a comment or five to throw out about how whatever they were doing was too predictable or else too ineffective. It was alternately hilarious and annoying how Potter had grown increasingly frustrated over the past few months with their professor. In the beginning, Potter had seemed to content enough to sit back and take notes and orders from the professor like any other student but as the year had progressed, and admittedly when Tackley had continued to challenge the boy's skill and knowledge of defense again and again, he had become more outspoken. It had been Potter that had started the rumor that Tackley was in fact in Death Eater or at least a sympathizer back during their first lesson and it had quietly but firmly settled into many students' minds over the last several months. Potter, whether intentional or not was always hard to tell, always held a lot of influence with people and when he spoke people listened. Particularly the younger years now that he was seen as the Chosen One. Potter's word was practically law to them these days- and Draco had a suspicion even more so in the past week that he had returned from his latest 'adventure'.

Draco knew perfectly well that Tackley was no Death Eater and at this point he was fairly certain that Potter would know that as well, since Potter always seemed rather alarmingly informed about anything having to do with the Dark Lord, but it hadn't stopped the Gryffindor from continuing with his open dislike for the woman or her methods. There was rarely week that went by where the two didn't butt heads in one way or another, each of them trying to prove that the other was not as informed as they liked to present themselves as. However, even Tackley had seemed to back away from her usual goading in the past week given recent events. Potter had been quiet and while some had called it withdrawn, Draco recognized that it was not very different from his usual reaction to bizarre and dangerous situations. Potter had been getting into impossible 'adventures' since First Year and was generally oddly quiet about them.

However the topic of an attack on a person's home had seemed to make the Gryffinder even quieter and more withdrawn than normal and Draco wondered if it was due to the fact that Potter's own parents had obviously failed to defend themselves against these very circumstances. As he listened to the professor's rather monotone lecture and tried to keep up with the salient points, his mind drifted, for perhaps the first time, to the idea that Potter must wonder all the time how exactly that attack had happened. He was too young to properly remember anything about it and yet his whole life he must have continued to wonder how his parents had died. How he had survived. Empathy was not something that Draco often made a practice of, but for once he was feelings the stirrings of sympathy for how suddenly and violently Potter's family had been ripped from him.

Considering how precarious his own current situation had become, it was little wonder that he could relate to the fear of potentially losing your family could cause. His father was stressed and nervous about his position but it seemed as though he had managed to gain back some of his prestige and position within the hierarchy but even Draco was aware that he was on shifting ground at best. The Dark Lord was volatile and nearly impossible to keep happy. The only person that seemed to remain in his good graces on a consistently strong basis was Snape and Draco was half in awe of the man for this skill.

The bell rang for the class and Potter rose from his seat with an anxious Weasley in tow. Granger was absent for her much publicized court appearance that day and both Gryffindors seemed to be taking the wait differently. Weasley, who usually sat with his girlfriend Brown, had instead sat himself in Granger's normal place beside Potter and had anxiously shifted for most of the class, his left leg jangling up and down rhythmically. He had yet to notice the barely concealed frustration on Brown's face as she had sat with her own best friend and watched as her boyfriend worried and fretted about another girl. The two had always been an odd pair in Draco's mind and he had been more than a little surprised when it had lasted. When Draco had first seen them together he had assumed it was for only for snogging or perhaps- if Weasley was lucky- a bit more, but certainly nothing more than frustrated sexual attraction between two teens that only had so many dating options in a boarding school.

Though if the rumors he had heard about Weasley and McMillian were at all true it was possible that Weasley at least had a few more options open to him than most of the school.

Regardless it was obvious to almost anyone with half a brain that Weasley and Granger had their own tension that had never been resolved and Weasley's current fling seemed to be growing only more aware of it as time went on. It was very unfortunate indeed that Granger had found herself in a situation in which it would be Lavender that would be the villain if she denied another girl access to her boyfriend. Draco smirked and thought about the differences in House traits. To a Gryffindor it would be horribly dishonorable to leave anyone to suffer unnecessarily and any sacrifice needed to help another person was only expected. Brown would be little more than a monster not to let Granger's best friend help her through a traumatic time. However, Pansy would have never allowed a boyfriend of hers to spend a second's thought another woman, no matter close of friends they were. To a Slytherin it would be a weakness to allow someone access to your partner during a vulnerable time.

However in fairness to Weasley, most of the Gryffindors, at least the Sixth Years in any case, were worried about their Housemate and it was well known that far more than just Weasley and Potter had wanted to attend the trial in a show of support. But then it was also said that there were several in the Tower that also wanted to support McLaggen and reveal the girl as a liar. Draco considered Gryffindors truly unobservant if they hadn't realized the truth to the accusations immediately, though regardless of guilt Draco was well aware that as a Muggleborn Granger didn't have much of a case against a Pureblood. He remembered a conversation a long time ago from his grandfather saying that an upstart mudblood had had the gall to drag him in on charges when she should have felt honored for the privilege of his attention. The charges had been dismissed quickly.

"Have you spoken to him yet?" Daphne asked startling Draco from his lighter observations and dragging him into more serious considerations as he watched the Gryffindor retreat.

"Does it look like I've talked to him?" He snapped haughtily, unhappy with the fact that she had startled him. "Besides... probably not the best day for it..." he hedged.

"You're making excuses," she told him bluntly. "He's been back for a week and even Theo has spoken to him already, you should do it and sooner rather than later so he knows that you're sincere."

"Potter and Theo got along before, in case you've forgotten, we've hated each other for years. Potter and I will never be friends."

"Potter has more important people to hate than you, Draco," Daphne told him and whether it was intentional or not the insult stung badly. If there was one thing that Draco never wanted to be it was irrelevant. "I told him that there are people that are willing to follow him, there are people that will follow your lead as well. This is the right move, you both bring different strengths to the table and Potter can accept help when its offered the right way. You just need to get over the fact that Potter that the people will rally behind, it'll be Potter that will really fight him. If you follow him than that's all for the better. The more on our side the better, if we're going to side with Potter than we're going to side with him win damn it, suck up your pride and do it already," she finally snapped.

Draco pursed his lips but didn't argue, he had already made all of his feeble arguments against siding with Potter over the past few weeks. Reasons why he should stay with the Dark Lord, reasons why Potter was not the leader most people liked to think he was, reasons why they were stupid for following him like a kicked puppy. However, _feeble_ was precisely what they had been, because Potter might have been young and inexperienced but there was also no denying the fact that he had a quality about him that the rest of them lacked. Potential perhaps. Potential to be great and powerful and...good. Potter was good in a way that Draco was starting to oddly admire and he had never thought that he would have concerned himself overly much with such an unimportant quality in the past.

Draco squared his shoulders and raised his chin defiantly, the Dark Lord had made him scream over Christmas. Made him suffer the excruciating agony and all-consuming humiliation of the Cruciatus Curse and that was not a position that a Malfoy should have ever been reduced to. He was Draco Malfoy, not a scrapping, ignorant puppet to be used and discarded and he would not suffer the indignity of bowing before anyone for the rest of his life. Potter claimed that the Dark Lord was nothing more than a dirty Half Blood. A Half Blood that claimed to understand blood purity, the idea was ridiculous. Draco was not willing to sell his body much less his soul to a worthless little Half Blood.

Potter too was a Half Blood, and Draco firmly trained his mind against the irony of _that_ fact, but Potter would never demand someone bow before him, rather Draco was fairly certain it would mortify the other boy if someone so much as dared. Draco Malfoy was a Pureblood and a wizard, confident in his skill and breeding but he also knew that he would never be a deciding factor in the war. He might have influence, there would be a few that would follow him but he would never lead legions of followers, never inspire the kind of loyalty that made others want to cast their lives aside from him and to that end he needed to make the best choice possible for himself. The Slytherin choice.

"Potter!" Draco called out.

Potter stopped and turned smoothly, his eyes flicking around briefly as though there were threats to consider but he would not act until he was certain, a fighter's look. Weasley was not as subtle and raised his wand immediately at seeing who had called to them, "what do you want Malfoy?" The redhead spat.

"It's fine Ron," Potter said quietly, his hand on his friend's shoulder though not actively stopping him.

Draco made sure to restrain the urge to draw his own wand on the other boy and even kept the acerbic remark glued to his tongue- a feat that he frankly felt deserved an award of some kind.

"I wanted to talk to you. Privately," he added. Potter might be self-righteous and annoying but Draco also knew him to be more open minded than Weasley, who would immediately dismiss him out of hand.

Weasley started as though to object but Potter gave the shoulder he was still gripping a sharp squeeze, half reassurance, half warning to let Potter handle things himself. "It's alright, Ron I'll meet you back at the Tower in a half hour alright? Then we'll go to dinner." Draco didn't miss the hint, a clear cut time so that if he kept Potter too long Weasley would know something was wrong and sound the alarm. The message to Draco was clear, Potter was giving him a moment to explain himself but he was on thin ice and was not trusted.

Weasley shot him a look of deep contempt but didn't argue the order. "Hermione should be back by then Harry, don't be late she'll want to talk to us."

Potter gave a stiff nod but said nothing, Weasley shot them one last look before turning and walking back in the direction of where Gryffindor Tower was known to be.

Draco shifted slightly, suddenly unsure what he should be saying. In their early years he and Potter had never had an interaction that was not filled with hostility and anger but in the past year they had been forced into too many situations where they had needed to get over their personal grudges and work together. It was possible for them to have a civil conservation but they were always filled with awkwardness and a clear desire from both of them that they wanted the interaction to be over as quickly as possible. This was the first time either one of them had ever sought the other out for a purpose other than to insult and fight.

"Is er...Hermione alright with... everything?" he asked uncomfortably.

Potter raised his eyebrows before giving a brief snort of amusement. " _Hermione_ is she now? I've never heard you call her that before, but yes, she'll be alright. Nervous about talking in front of everyone but that's normal, you know her, once she starts talking she gets people to listen to her point."

Draco nodded realizing the truth of this statement no matter how reluctantly. He personally didn't like the Muggleborn girl, first for her Blood Status which was an insult to proper wizards no matter what Potter and his kind might think of it, but secondly for her condescension and tendency to always shove her knowledge down other people's throats. He had long since given up trying to deny the fact that the girl was actually a genius when it came to facts and information. In the first couple of years he had tried over and over to insist that she was lucky or just a loser that spent all of her time in the library. While the second was most certainly true it did not give credit to the fact that few people could have remembered as much information as Granger managed in every lesson.

"But I don't think you wanted to talk to me about Hermione, so why don't you tell me what's wrong," Potter said cutting directly to the point of the matter.

Draco shook his head at the Gryffindor bluntness. He had been raised on the fine art of subtly. His mother might have been doing poorly for the past year but she was a smart, conniving woman that had taught her son never to underestimate the power of small talk or the significance of seemingly minor word choices and deeds. He had grown up with her lessons and used them at the start of social dinner parties where the children were still present. Serious matters were always discussed well away from anyone under the age of 15 but Purebloods expected their children to be able to hold themselves steady during any and all social functions and required them to practice regularly. Potter's direct manner was at once refreshing and off putting to him.

"I know that Daphne spoke to you and she told you that some of us..." Draco roughly cleared his voice. "I'm not looking to be your new best friend Potter and I sure as hell am not going to around calling you Sir and thinking that you're better than me or anything but I...I think that we can help each other."

Potter quirked his left brow slightly, his expression slightly bemused but not insulting. "And how exactly do you think you're going to help me?"

"Easy Potter, don't overestimate yourself. You're popular and now everyone knows that you can hold yourself in a fight but there are people in this world that will not follow you unless you have the right people behind you." Draco glanced down and sucked back some of his pride, this was necessary. "We're not kids anymore Potter, and I can admit that I was a bit...well I suppose the term you would use would be spoiled brat when I first met you but even though I can see now that I went about that first meeting with you all wrong the sentiments behind what I said weren't. You might hate it, but the Wizarding World will always care about Blood Status, something you don't have to begin with but admittedly most would overlook the Half Blood part given everything else about you, but you still don't know the right people, nor do you run in the right circles."

To his credit, Potter lived up to Draco's claim that they were no longer children. A few years ago the Gryffindor's morality and sense of fairness would have had him storming off in anger refusing to hear any more the moment 'blood purity' had been brought into the conversation. Now, Potter frowned, clearly unhappy, but not allowing his idealization of the world to interfere with the reality of the situation.

Potter's face was unreadable but there was a shrewdness to his eyes that Draco had not really expected. Daphne and Theo had both told him not to underestimate the other boy's intelligence, claiming that he was not as naïve as they had always thought but Draco had still not thought much of Potter's ability to negotiate, perhaps all of those meetings with international delegates had taught him something.

"I'll be honest Draco, I'm not entirely sure what Daphne, and you and the rest of the Slytherins really expect from me. I'm not a leader in this war...not in a way where I can tell people what to do or even know what I'm supposed to be doing. I'll fight Voldemort but that doesn't mean that I have to be out in the front of it."

Draco smirked slightly, "I don't think you have all the answers Potter but we both know that you're no follower. Look at Tackley's classes, that woman has been training Aurors for over 30 years and served as one even longer and I don't think she's had a single person call her on her crap more than you. I don't think you can help it, can you? You just...have to do what you think is best. I can't say it's something I admire Potter, there's something to be said for doing things the accepted way. I was raised to follow tradition, follow the path of the powerful and at this point there's use denying the fact that that's you." Draco shook his head, part of him still having trouble believing that he was here in from of Harry Potter, a boy that he had hated from the age of eleven, and wanting to work under him in a war against the Dark Lord.

"Its really fucking annoying that we're the same age you know. I don't think I would mind it as much if you were older and I could blame it on experience but I'm enough of a wizard to know that every generation or so there's a wizard that is meant to lead. That's as much tradition as anything else in our world. Magic picks destiny, everyone knows that. We followed the Dark Lord because he had the power to back up what he promised and he was the most likely to win. I honestly never thought that you really had the power to beat him... and then I saw you destroy the Dark Lord's wand in a duel where you were half out of your mind and unable to even see straight. I saw you shield against my Aunt Bellatrix who is pretty much the second most terrifying person I've ever seen as well as half dozen other people at the same time. Wizards with that kind of power... they deserve respect, that much I know. You might want to go around denying it or even ignoring it but we both know that the papers have been right all along, you're the Chosen One aren't you?"

Potter had a look of surprise about him following his little speech and for a moment he was quiet, clearly thinking over what he should say. Draco wondered if the other boy was still going to try to deny it, claim that there had been no prophesy or if there had been he had never heard it. Draco had already been disillusioned by the leadership of the Dark Lord, he hated to think that Potter too would be a disappointment.

"That's right. The prophesy that your dad tried to get last year... it says that I'm the one that has to kill him," Potter admitted quietly, much to Draco's surprise. "But that doesn't make me some...general in an army Draco."

"Even the Dark Lord knew that he couldn't do what he needed to do alone, he needed help and you do too. Let me help you and you won't regret it."

Potter was quiet for a moment. "What about your father? I just spent the better part of week under your family's hospitality Malfoy, not something I would prefer to do again. You might want out, but Lucius is in whether he wants it or not."

Draco nodded, "he is. But he doesn't want to be. I know you have no reason to believe this but my father... he's fallen out of the Dark Lord's favor. There's no advantage to him if the Dark Lord wins, he won't get anything from him," Draco answered honestly. He might have had a more moral questioning when it came to joining the Death Eaters but for Lucius Malfoy it was cold pragmatism. He could get nothing from the Dark Lord anymore.

Potter's eyes narrowed, clearly unimpressed. "Is it just about winning?" he asked finally, quietly. "Voldemort might be promising his Death Eaters victory and great rewards for following him but I can't do either of those. When I lose a fight or people fighting against Voldemort die, are you going to just switch sides again? Voldemort has Slytherin's Shield. I can't get around that, not yet anyway. If you want to do this- work together, fight together, than that means that you have to be all in, Draco. The time for sitting on the fence is over and if you think that Voldemort is going to just let you go because you're still in school or something than you've lost your damn mind. He'll hunt you down to kill you for this. You need to be sure, and I need to know that you're sure."

"I'm positive. Potter, I won't lie to you I want to pick the winning side, and for my father...that's all it is, I think. I have no intention on dying in someone else's war. But...I can't serve him. He's...he is nothing like I imagined he would be. I... I grew up thinking that the Dark Lord was going to make everything better. To give wizards power like we deserve. He doesn'"

"We don't deserve any more power than the muggles have," Potter snapped impatiently. "Magic, power, they aren't valid reasons to get what you want, just a means of getting them. Nothing is owed to us because we have magic Draco, instead we should worry about we owe the world. Magic can do a lot of good and instead Voldemort wants to use to destroy and control everyone around him."

Draco wasn't sure what to say to that. He had been raised his whole life with the firm believe that wizards should be given respect and prestige because of their power and yet there was a passion in the way that Potter spoke about defending others that hard not to follow.

"You can trust me Potter, I'm lucky enough to be able to switch sides once I know enough to know that I won't be lucky enough to switch again."

Potter looked slightly started by the pragmatic argument before snorting briefly. "Fair point. Alright then, I guess this means a truce is in order," he said holding out his hand.

Draco raised a mocking brow, "I think this is what got us into trouble the last time."

Potter smirked, "the last time you deserved it. You reminded me a lot of cousin Dudley when I met you and I think you know enough about my relatives to know that when I got the Wizarding World my goal was to get as far away from them as possible. But now, my cousin and I are actually getting along and I don't see why you and I can't as well."

Draco was a bit disgusted to be compared to a muggle, particularly one of Potter's relatives but he understood the point being made. He grasped Potter's hand, realizing that Potter was probably right. They wouldn't not have been friends 6 years ago but now they had a chance to start things new. The balance of power had shifted and Draco was no longer the spoiled little boy that was so certain that he would get everything he wanted. But perhaps things would be better this way.

HPHPHP

Albus Dumbledore was feeling his age these days. Three wars. Each time he had been certain that he had had the answers that no other wizard possessed and yet he was beginning to see that while he might be mI have not manipulated you, but I have manipulated events surrounding intelligent than most, in other ways he was nothing but a foolish man with too many secrets.

' _I have not manipulated you, but I have manipulated events surrounding you'_.

He had meant the words sincerely when he had said them but the more considered everything he had done he found himself realizing that it mattered little how he had gone about things, he had still maneuvered Harry into a position he never should have been in. Albus had always suffered from a kind of tunnel vision when it came to his grand schemes, it was the major reason that even all these years later he and Aberforth were still at odds from time to time. The two brothers were civil with one another, even loved one another but it had been a bitter potion to swallow the day Albus had fully realized that Aberforth would never truly _like_ him.

The door to the office opened and Severus walked in. The pale man was looking sickly and tired. Albus was still unsure what Harry had said to the man about his role in handing over the prophesy that had killed Lily and James. Harry had reason to be reason, but Albus sincerely hoped the boy had not been cruel. Severus had had enough cruelty in his life and his guilt these past 15 years had been more punishment than the worst Azkaban could have done to him. Lily's death had been Severus' own dementor- one he lived with daily.

"Severus, is everything alright? You look as though you could use a rest."

"Everything is fine Headmaster, I am here to report on a few of the Slytherins," the man paused, "things are changing. Greengrass and...Nott of all people are gravitating towards Potter and there has been more and more whispers that others should do the same."

Albus raised his eyebrows, this was surprising to say the least. The Greengrasses were fairly notorious for remaining neutral during conflict and the _Notts_ , well the Nott Family had a long and dark history when it came to Dark Lords.

"Is young Theo aware of how Harry escaped?" Albus asked cautiously. Harry had not gone into great detail over his escape but he had admitted to killed Alexander Nott as he had fled but Albus knew that the boy had only done what had been needed to be done, of that he and the Aurors were in agreement, but he doubted the man's son would feel the same way.

Severus nodded stiffly. "Theo holds Potter responsible for the death of his father, as he should, but has been surprisingly...accepting of the circumstances. The boy understands that we are at war and understands that Potter had been left with no other option for escape. Albus...Potter is gaining a reputation. Not simply as a fighter, thought his latest escape from an impenetrable dungeon has certainly grabbed some rather notable attention, but as leader. Potter..." Severus shook his head and his normally impeccable posture seemed to slump slightly.

"I admit that I misjudged the boy gravely. Potter is a man that knows what he wants and is straightforward in quest to get it. He works relentlessly towards his goals and yet will not sacrifice those around him to get what he wants. He is an inherently...good person, and when you spend any amount of real time around him it becomes increasingly difficult to disregard that quality. I have never been a sentimental person, nor have most of the people in my House and yet there is something to be admired in how Potter approaches the war and treats those around him."

Albus nodded slowly, his own thoughts echoing much of what the younger man said. He had often tried to live the life Harry seemed to achieve so flawlessly. To be humble, to have friends that were built solely on mutual admiration and esteem. Albus had always been too arrogant to fully enjoy the company of most people, invariably thinking himself above them, even those he truly liked. The only person that had ever truly matched his intellect and wit had been Gellert, though in that case Albus believed that he had been the one that had been taken in.

Harry was a rare breed in the fact that he truly possessed raw magical power and a good amount of charm and yet truly had no desire for political power or attention. Albus believed that Harry would be most happy with a modest life, a family to care about and perhaps a career that would keep his need for action and curiosity at bay. He had heard that Harry had ambitions to be an Auror and assuming he could rise above the constraints of a Ministry job than he felt it was a very good fit. Albus had few doubts that he would in fact find his way around those constraints. Harry might have no desire to lead legions of men and his name known by every man, woman and child in their world but he would also never be content or even able to be a simple follower.

Albus considered everything his Potions Master was telling him. "Do you truly believe that they will follow Harry?"

Severus paused and carefully considered his words, something Albus had grown used to him doing, Severus had always been an exacting person. "Potter is a hard person not to follow. Horace once told me that Tom Riddle had a following even when he was at school. That others flocked to him as though they could not help themselves. You have experienced much of the same. Humans have a tendency to follow but wizards...wizards have a tendency to seek out those with power, I'm not sure how one such as yourself feels as you are the one welds it, but for the rest of us, power of that kind draws us to them. In the past Potter was merely a symbol. I told him in the beginning of the year that he was becoming a man, that he was more than a simple name that they could remember fondly. What I had not counted on was the sheer power behind him. The desire that others would feel to want to follow him because they knew that he is capable of the remarkable. And yet..."

Albus nodded, "it's not power alone that draws others to Harry. It is as you said before, he is a truly good person, one that others want to know and befriend. I very much doubt that young Mr. Weasley or Miss Granger have ever once considered themselves his 'followers' and yet they would lay down their lives without question for him."

"And he would all too gladly return the favor in true Gryffindor fashion," Severus muttered.

"There is something to be said for all of our House traits, something I believe that Harry is learning if he is making friends within your House."

Severus gave a stiff nod before shifting topics. "You wanted to see me about something urgent?"

"Yes Severus, I received an urgent message from an anonymous source practically demanding to see Mr. Potter at the earliest convenience and I was not sure how I should address it."

"I fail to see how that concerns me anymore. Potter has made it clear that he no longer trusts in my judgement or person."

"Is that what he told you?"

"What did you expect him to say Albus? Thank me having the nerve to feel sorry for my actions? Tell me that everything worked out for the best the way most others would feel? They celebrate his parents' deaths like a party every year. They speak of sacrifice and courage but no one gives a damn of what was lost that night Albus, only what was gained. Potter suffered not only the loss of his parents but let not forget that he has spent years with Petunia and her sick husband who have delighted in beating the boy down. What could he possibly say?"

"I do not know what I expected him to say, only that Harry is a remarkable young man with an excellent sense of compassion and ability to forgive those that deserve it, it is my belief that you deserve it."

Severus shifted uncomfortably, but when he spoke it was his usual confidence, "tell the boy about the message and allow him to decide. You cannot keep having it both ways Albus, trusting him to act like an adult when it benefits your purpose and then calling him a child when it's no longer convenient for him to have a say in what happens. Potter has earned the right to decide these things for himself."

Albus nodded, it was similar to what Harry himself had said, that Albus had to make a choice of how he wanted to treat him.

Two days later Albus was not surprised when Harry had elected to take the meeting but under the protection of meeting at Hogwarts. There was no way of knowing if was a friend or enemy that was arranging the meeting but with the protective enchantments around the castle, kidnap or direct harm would be all but impossible.

A small, ancient little witch arrived in his office, accompanied by her younger grand-daughter, or perhaps a great-granddaughter given the woman's advanced age, but they both refused any overtures of welcome Albus made. The old woman was demanding quite insistently that she needed to see Harry Potter and Harry Potter alone.

It wasn't long before Harry arrived in the office alongside a silent Severus Snape. Albus wasn't sure if the inclusion of the man in the meeting was a good idea or not, perhaps he was pushing Harry by having him there, but Albus hated dealing in the unknown and felt that having people around that he could trust at least gave him some control over the situation. Harry said nothing about the man's appearance at the meeting.

"Harry Potter," the old woman began, voice pleading and anxious. She rose and tottered unevenly over towards him, her withered hands outreached. "I am sorry that I have waited so long to see you, I should have come weeks ago, when it was clear what He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named possessed, I was selfish, its been in my family for so long. Jealously guarding it seemed natural."

Harry looked rather bemused by the rambling woman. "That's alright ma'am...er...sorry I'm not sure how to address you."

"Apologies are all mine my dear boy. My name is Althea Fawley. You see, I needed to come to the boy that would destroy Him, the one who deserves to have it. My ancestors have protected it for so long but **you** are the one will know how to use it most wisely."

"Use what?" Harry asked it was clear that he was both confused and beginning to get frustrated.

The woman nodded to her young companion who pulled out an ancient but still completely intact stroll. "Ravenclaw's Map, and the knowledge of how to overcome the Shield."

 **A/N: I'm very sorry for the delay in putting this chapter out. In other news I have officially passed the one year mark of launching this story and I want to sincerely thank everyone that has read and reviewed and had positive things to say. I was nervous about people reading what I've written and was pleasantly surprised to see that most people have seemed to truly like it.**

 **Also I have started a second story as well, this one a little more AU and centered around the idea of Harry going to Azkaban when innocent. Hope many of you like that as well.**


	41. The Gears of War

**Chapter 41: The Gears of War**

" _Ravenclaw's Map and the knowledge of how to overcome the Shield_."

Harry blinked in surprise at the unexpected news that after all this time there had been someone out there with the knowledge of how to break through Voldemort's seemingly impenetrable Shield. Shock gave way to excitement but was quickly followed by cynicism, it all seemed a bit too good to be true.

"Ms. Fawley... I don't mean to be rude or anything but why haven't you said anything about the Shield before now? Voldemort has been pressing his advantage with it for weeks, if you've had it all this time why haven't you used it against him?"

The older woman winced upon hearing the dreaded wizard's name but then gave him a look of deep shame and regret. "My family...we have been tasked with guarding the secrets of the Founders for generations. We guard the Map but no one in my family has been able to use it for years now. It is a gift..." She cleared her throat and Harry could see a look of deep longing. Despite the woman's advanced age it reminded him of a small child that desperately wanted a toy only to be told that they couldn't have it. Althea Fawley had spent years wanting to use the precious object that she had been tasked with protecting only to discover that she could look without touching her whole life.

"We swore never to reveal our knowledge of Rowena's Map or the knowledge that we have of the other objects to anyone but when You-Know-Who gained access to the Shield...I should have acknowledged then that the days for secrecy were over. The weapons, they are meant to be _used_ , not simply held and admired. He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named has been hunting for the Map for weeks now, I've heard about the attacks...the poor MacDougals... I should have come to you at once... but how could I truly be certain? These gifts... the Founders were very exacting in their bequeaths, far more than most could ever imagine. Only those with the right qualities, only those with the blessing of the House can properly utilize the tools that were left."

Harry frowned in thought, "so because I'm a Gryffindor you didn't think I would be able to use Ravenclaw's Map anyway?" On that score Harry felt that Fawley was probably right. The Sorting Hat had once complimented him on 'not having a bad mind' but that was about as far as Harry's Ravenclaw tendencies went. If Ravenclaw was looking for a person after her own heart to handle her Map than surely it would have been someone from that House, or at least a better bet would have been Hermione.

Althea shook her head, white tendrils falling from the crown of braids on her head, her small frame buzzing with energy. Harry suspected that the ancient woman had not seen this much excitement in a couple of decades. "The Sorting that is done at the age of eleven is only a primary indicator of your personality, my boy. It is true that more often than not that the traits that we have at that age become the dominating qualities of our life and it is equally true that once Sorted into a certain House, it influences how you think so that Gryffindors become more courageous but also more reckless, Slytherins become cunning but also selfish and Ravenclaws..." Fawley smiled, "very often we become intelligent without any actual wisdom.

"But despite what the tradition has become over the years, your House was never supposed to utterly define you. A person is made up of so many different qualities. Before opening the school, all four of the Founders did what most people did at the time, fought wars for their feudal lords. Rowena was often celebrated for her bravery in battle and for all of his faults, Salazar refused to leave the battlefield until his men were protected and safely away. It matters little what House you were Sorted into, only that you are able to truly display the quality the item is meant to represent. Knowing this, it makes my secrecy all the worse. When I decided to keep the knowledge of the Map to myself it was not because I was convinced that you would be unable to use it, but simply due to the fact that my family has protected it for generations and I could not bear to think that I would be the first Fawley in six hundred years to betrays its secrets. But my family was never meant to protect the secret simply out of pride or stubbornness, the Map was made to be used when our world was at risk and I have done a great disservice, not only to you and every witch and wizard in our world but my family as well by keeping silent so long."

Harry could hardly believe his luck. He had been growing increasingly worried about Voldemort's possession of the Shield for weeks now. There seemed to be no way around the impenetrable Shield and he had been losing sleep over trying to balance the idea that he was supposed to not only defeat a wizard that was both more powerful and more experienced than himself but had a magical object that completely protected him. Not to mention that all of the sudden Slytherin House seemed to be unexpectedly backing _him_ and the fact that they had chosen to side with him at a point where he had never been more uncertain about his next move made him keenly aware that he could lose their support as suddenly as it was gained.

"How can Potter be sure that the Map truly works for him? If the Map does _not_ accept him, could it not lead him into a trap?" Snape asked suddenly and Harry started. In his excitement and absorption with Fawley, he had actually forgotten that the Potions Master was even present. He had avoided Snape ever since he had learned about the man's feelings for his mother and all that he had done in response to that feeling for the past 15 years.

He was still unsure how he felt about the whole thing and had been trying, quite unsuccessfully, over the past week to avoid thinking much about it at all.

Althea looked up in surprise, as though such a scenario had never occurred to her, and perhaps it had not. Each of the weapons was meant to reflect a trait of the Houses and Ravenclaws were not as distrustful as Slytherins... but they were known for their intelligence and her eyes sharpened in speculation.

"An interesting question," she conceded after a moment. "I will be truthful when I tell that I do not know the answer. The weapons were initially passed down fairly regularly among followers and students of the Houses for the first couple hundred years, slowly- whether it was from the changing times or simply because no suitable owners had been found in a few generations, they fell out of practice and then only into legend. As I said, my family has protected the Map for the better part of last 6 centuries. The Shield has not been seen in the last five but Helga's potion was still being used on a fairly regular basis up until the 1700s- at least according to my family memoirs."

"And the Sword?" Dumbledore asked quietly, with a subtle look in Harry's direction.

The elderly woman smirked slightly in response, "the sword, if the rumors are to be believed, was returned to his proper former glory a few years ago, but before that? I believe it disappeared around the same time as the Shield. They were always used in tandem...in one way or another. When Slytherin and Gryffindor were friends, they were inseparable and there was never a more terrible sight to behold on the battlefield than to face the two of them. If the stories are true the two alone would cut down dozens by the score, fighting and weaving their path. The Shield and Sword, complimenting one another to create an unbeatable enemy.

"But slowly, as you well know, that friendship soured until they were the bitterest of enemies. As far as I know, there was only one time when they came to such a duel as to employ their weapons against one another. You might wonder why there is a North Tower but no South Tower? Well there was, originally, but after the duel? It was reduced to rubble and never replaced. That all being said- the weapons were designed to be used together. They work best when used by a pair of wizards that share a common goal, and though I don't believe it's ever been done before...most believe that they would work best if used by a single person."

Harry took in everything that he was being told. He remembered the feeling of pulling the Sword from the Hat. He had been terrified at the time and when Fawkes had come with nothing more than the Sorting Hat Harry had felt certain that he was truly doomed. He had placed the Hat on his head out of sheerest desperation but when he had pulled the Sword there had been a feeling of _rightness_. Not simply hope at finding a weapon, even though that had been the predominate thing on his mind at the time, but a more innate feeling that he had not taken the time understand at the time. He had been so consumed with facing the basilisk that he had nearly completely overlooked the actual feeling of taking possession of the Sword itself.

The closest feeling that Harry could compare it too was when he had first grasped his phoenix wand. Even his replacement wand, which suited him very well, never gave him that feeling of utterly completeness that Voldemort's Brother Wand gave him...and only now did he recognize that the only time he had come close to that wonderful, nearly intoxicating, feeling was when he had grasped the counterpart to the weapon that Voldemort carried now.

"Thank you for coming to me with the Map," Harry finally said, his mind wondering if Voldemort had felt the same feeling when he had taken possession of the Shield that Harry had had as he welded the Sword. "But you said that said that you also have information on the Shield, is that it? That the Sword and Shield are meant to be used together?"

Fawley shook her head but her smile was a bit triumphant. "No, it's much better than that. You see the Founders were the brightest, most powerful witches and wizards of the day- but it was a time when danger lurked around every corner. Muggles were growing increasingly fearful of magic and remember this was well before the Statue of Secrecy was in place. But that wasn't all, constant battles were fought between wizards themselves. Loyalties and lands constantly in flux. It would not be long after the founding of Hogwarts that the first of the great muggle Crusades were launched and Kings used the absence of lords in their castles and the shifting of the Church's attention in order to consolidate their power and create nation-states for the first time and they often used wizards to help them. That had not changed from the previous centuries, we all know of Arthur's reliance on Merlin after all.

"But I digress, sorry my boy the older I get the longer my stories, but my point is that as you do not gather the four most powerful witches and wizards in a single place without offering some safeguards. Gryffindor and Slytherin were only able to turn their weapons on one another because Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff did not take sides until later. They eventually sided with Godric, forcing Salazar to either risk a fight- which he knew he would use against the three of them- or to leave. As you know, he left. What you might not have realized was that the odds alone were not what forced his hand. Salazar was a skilled dueler, probably better than Godric and certainly better than the others. While they more than likely would have defeated him together, he was also a stubborn man, one from all accounts that had a pride that rivalled Godric's in every way. No, Salazar left because he knew that if the other used thier weapons against him, particularly here at Hogwarts where Helga had insisted above all else upon the safety of their students, than the Shield would be rendered useless. All of the weapons, when used against occupants of the castle or against the majority of the other weapons, will cease to work."

"You mean that the Dark Lord cannot attack Hogwarts with the Shield?" Snape asked softly.

"Not without the backing of the other weapons," Fawley confirmed. "If all of them are employed against the castle's defenses than it was written that the assumption would be that the castle had been overrun with enemies and the weapons are being employed to recapture it, but only weapon? That person is considered a traitor to Hogwarts and the magic will be stripped from the item until re-united with the others."

"Are you certain about this?" Dumbledore asked calmly, "I have never heard of these safe guards though I admit that my knowledge of the weapons is rudimentary."

"As certain as I can be," Fawley answered. "As I said, my family has been asked with guarding the Map, but Rowena's real legacy was always knowledge. My family has kept careful memoirs, starting from the first recorded use of the weapons, going back to their forging, and carrying on through the ages to whenever so much as a hint of the weapons being used had been discovered. I have studied these texts for years and safeguards that the Founders put in place were always of particular interest to me."

"Does Voldemort know that he can't attack Hogwarts with the Shield?" Harry asked turning to Snape for the first time.

Snape hesitated in thought, "not to my knowledge though he has always been hesitant to launch any sort of attack on the school while the Headmaster has been in place, although..." and here he glanced significantly at Dumbledore. "We are aware that there are plans in place to try and eliminate the Headmaster as a threat."

Dumbledore looked at Snape in surprise and Harry knew in that moment that Snape was not supposed to have mentioned anything of the kind to Harry but he also knew that Snape had said it as part peace offering, his way of showing Harry that he would not keep important secrets from him any longer. Harry found himself strangely touched by the gesture from the reserved man.

Harry thought back to any impressions that he might have picked up from Voldemort during his visions but as usual information did not come readily to him. He had felt Voldemort's invulnerability. He believed the Shield made him truly unstoppable and that he alone had a right to it as Slytherin's last remaining Heir.

For the first time in quite a while Harry remembered Dumbledore's lessons on a younger Tom Riddle, on his naked insecurities and need to feel special. It was strange to Harry that he and Riddle could share so many similarities and yet at the same time they were very different people. For all that he was the Boy-Who-Lived or the Chosen One, Harry never considered himself truly special. He knew that he had faults, knew that he fell mostly in the middle rank of his classmates. It wasn't that he possessed no talent or lacked power it was simply that whatever gifts he had, he also had flaws. Voldemort, whenever Harry had glimpses of his mind, was wholly narcissistic in his belief that no one could possibly defeat him. It would never occur to him that someone could beat him with the Shield or that someone as powerful as Slytherin would ever place a safety net on a weapon in the first place.

And that was when Harry got a very Gryffindorish plan.

"What if we made him attack Hogwarts?" he asked. "Trap him where the Shield would be defenseless against him.

Snape looked first startled and then rather angry at the suggestion while Dumbledore only shook his head. "Harry there are over a thousand students in this school not to mention innocent professors and staff, drawing Voldemort here under the assumption that his Shield will fail him is one thing but he still has an army at his command. The Dark Lord on his own is a considerable threat, one that we should never underestimate. Drawing him here is too risky."

Harry nodded his understanding but persisted, "but what if we evacuated the students first."

Snape shook his head, "there is no way to covertly evacuate hundreds of people and draw the Dark Lord here without him knowing. He has spies everywhere and would not attack without fully knowing the situation in the castle first. Drawing him here in the first place is suspicious enough, it would immediately put him on his guard."

"And unnecessary," Dumbledore continued, "according to Ms. Fawley, the weapons are equally neutralized when used against more than one of his brethren, and we now have control of two of the objects. I know that you are anxious to settle things Harry but drawing him here is not the way."

Harry nodded again, this time conceding the point. It was risky but for once Harry wanted to bring the fight to Voldemort. Every time he had ever faced the man it had been on his terms and Harry had been forced into reacting to the situation. He was tired of constantly being on the defensive, tired of waiting for him to make the first move and hope that he could merely escape once more. He wanted to attack. To actually hurt the man instead of merely being proud of himself for getting out alive.

Althea Fawley handed Harry the Map, telling him to take his time in using it, that it was only meant to be used in battle or when there was great need but to try and study it nevertheless so that the Map might judge him worth enough to use it. Harry thanked her, still unsure if he would actually be able to use the valuable parchment at all before saying goodbye to her as she left.

Harry was left in the office with Snape and Dumbledore, two people that he had recently had strained and difficult conversations with. All three of them seemed to reach the same conclusion at the same time and a visible tension seemed to grow in the room with the absence of any business related discussion.

"Harry I must say that I am proud of you that you have been able to put aside your misgivings about the two of us when faced with important matters."

Harry bristled slightly as he felt that it was rather condescending of Dumbledore to assume that he would not be able to remain professional in light of his own feelings. "Sir...I trust your judgement when it comes to matters with the war but I can't say that I'm not disappointed in how you've done things. I can work with you sir...but I don't know if I can fully trust you again. Not like I once did."

Dumbledore sighed but nodded his understanding, "a prudent choice from a wise man. I believe that I should be getting to my next meeting, I have to see Minerva about a matter with her Fourth Year classes, you two may leave when you're ready."

Dumbledore excused himself too quickly for either of them to object but it was clear that he had wanted to give Harry a moment alone with the Potions Master.

"Potter," Snape merely said neutrally.

"Sir- Snape," Harry altered, unwilling to be differential to the man. "I've thought a lot about everything that you said to me. About my mother...about me."

"And?"

"And I don't know. You've helped me this year, I can't deny that. And...you were right when you said I don't know what it was like for you in Slytherin House during the war, but it couldn't have been easy. You kept your promises and I respect that...but did you have to be such a bastard the whole time?"

"Potter!"

"I'm not saying anything that's not true!" Harry argued, suddenly fierce. "I know you heard about Neville's boggart Third Year, and I know that everyone was laughing about it, I did too, but the more I think about it...the more messed up the whole thing is. I'm used to not having any adults that I can turn to, the Dursleys made sure of that but...you're a bloody teacher!

"I know now why you were so nasty to me but I didn't know at the time. I was eleven! I couldn't write home and complain to my mum and dad that my teacher hated me. I couldn't fight back when you were being unfair. It wasn't right, professor. And the fact that you fight against Voldemort or that you've tried to protect me doesn't change any of that."

Snape was silent for a long moment, his pale face his usual inscrutable mask. His muscles were taut and Harry half expected the man to curse him. "You're right," Snape said softly. "I was an adult and you were a child and I never should have taken out my grudge against your father or my... how I felt about your mother on you. Anger does...terrible things to a person."

Snape did not elaborate but Harry supposed no more was really needed to be said. Snape had been a lonely and neglected child and he had become an angry teenager that had lost the only person that he had cared about. It was not terribly surprising that the result had been a bitter man.

Snape cleared his throat, "you once said to me...perhaps not in so many words but the lesson I learned was that that revenge wasn't worth it if it made you miserable the whole time. You were right. I have been angry with your father and Black for too long and I have gotten nothing for it. And last week you told me that the choices that we make one day do not have define us the next."

Snape paused and the next words were obviously hard for him to say. "You have given me good advice this year, advice I would have done better to follow long before now...though I doubt I would have listened. I never meant for Lily to die...truthfully I never even meant for James to die, though I cannot claim that it was his death that I mourned. I have lived with my mistakes for a very long time but I think it might be long past time to consider the future instead of the past."

To say that Harry was shocked was an understatement. The same man that was notorious for keeping his feelings and emotions a secret from his own facial expressions had just laid himself open to him. Snape had remembered his words from the train all those months ago and taken them to heart.

"I think that's a good idea," Harry said softly. "15 years is a long time to pay for a mistake...I don't think my parents would mind you forgiving yourself."

Snape gave a stiff nod before exiting. Harry released a breath he had barely known he was holding. His feelings towards Snape were still complicated, he had a feeling that they always would be, but his respect for the man had increased greatly with his honesty.

HPHPHP

Ron tapped his foot impatiently, waiting for Harry to return from yet another meeting. Yesterday Hermione's trial had wrapped up and she had come back to the Tower tired and unwilling to talk. The Judge's panel had informed her that they would take time to arrive at a decision and to expect an official Owl with their decision within the next three days. Ron had wanted to hear the details but Harry had shook his head silently, indicating that they should leave her alone for the time being.

Luckily, she had not retreated to her dormitory, instead she had stayed by them, sitting quietly by the fire as Ron tried once again to teach Lavender the finer points of Chess, an activity the blonde girl had no patience for. If he had ever thought of complaining about matching up against Harry or Hermione (or many times both of them together) he had not realized that they were quality competition in comparison to his girlfriend. Though Ron didn't mind too much, truth be told it was very nice to be the undisputed best at something and when he really wanted a challenged, Ernie was still willing to play a game from time to time.

Harry had been quiet as well but quite another reason. Not only was he still attempting to catch up on the schoolwork he had missed due to his week long absence but was also still receiving countless letters and scrolls from the Ministry, the ICW, the werewolves and the vampires. Harry had become more studious than Hermione lately in his need to keep up with everything that was going on, though admittedly while Hermione often treated a long research session like most would a day at an amusement park, Harry was diligent out of necessity than desire.

Ron had caught Harry shooting Hermione a few covetous looks from time to time, and he knew that Harry very much wanted to ask their brilliant friend for some help but refused to burden her when she was upset. He was glad that Harry was tactful enough to give Hermione her space because if he had upset her that night Ron might have had punched him, best friend or not. And it was very lucky that Ron was not been forced to fight Harry, who was a good six inches shorter and nearly a stone less in weight, because it was a terrible idea when you considered that Harry was the most dangerous dueler, not to mention most magically powerful, person that Ron knew.

They had all gone to bed earlier than usual and were rather quiet. Hermione and Harry both wrapped up in their individual thoughts while Ron had kissed Lavender soundly before parting for the evening, wishing very much that a kiss alone was not the end of their night. After morning classes Harry had been called to Dumbledore's office about meeting some mystery woman that Ron knew Harry would tell him all about when he returned, though it seemed to be taking longer than he expected. At this rate Harry was going to be getting to class late- not that the professors paid too close attention to his comings and goings lately. Hermione had disappeared right after class and Ron worried that the strain of the case was getting to her. He didn't know what he would do if they let McLaggen off.

He glanced up as he saw Lavender approach him and he smiled. He felt a bit guilty for thinking so much about Hermione when he was growing to care about his own girlfriend more each day. He knew that he had gotten together with the Gryffindor girl for all the wrong reasons. He had started dating her because she was incredibly pretty, wonderfully straightforward with her expectations and feelings, and more interested in snogging than making him think especially hard about where things were headed or what she might mean to him. At a time when things had started to be unbearably complicated in his life, Lavender had made things simple for him and while he was fairly certain that Hermione and quite a few others might have taken offense to that sentiment, he was incredibly grateful for the easiness of their relationship.

He had quite liked being with Ernie, surprisingly so, and after several months of being with Lavender and enjoying it very much he was finally ready to fully accept the fact that he did like both men and women, though he definitely leaned more towards women. But he had not been ready for the type of relationship that Ernie had wanted, the other boy had cared about him too much and Ron had known that he had been too uncertain about the physical part of the relationship to be truly fair to the other boy. Perhaps if they had met at a different time, when Ron was more sure of himself and what he liked than it might have stood a chance.

There had also been his feelings for Hermione to consider. Hermione had been his best friend since Halloween of First Year. She and Harry were the two people closest to him in his life but as they had gotten older it became increasingly obvious that there was a big difference in how he felt towards Harry and how he regarded Hermione. It was one of the reasons why his attraction to Ernie had caught him by surprise so much- he had always thought of Harry as another brother. His best friend, his confidant and a person that he would follow to hell and back but that was the extent of the relationship. There was no attraction but also no complications. With Hermione it had started to feel inexplicably...different.

It had happened so slowly that he had not even acknowledged it himself fully, but the night of the Yule Ball there had been the somewhat shocking revelation that Hermione was, in fact, a girl and one that he was very much attracted to. There was the further realization that Ron had- somehow- already regarded her as his. An unfair assumption he knew now, Hermione was her own person it wasn't right for him to make claims on her without even discussing it with her, but at the time it had seemed only natural. During Fifth Year he had thought that the two of them would eventually come together but it had always been so complicated. They had been friends for years that he had never known how to make the change. It had also always been the three of them and if Hermione were to really choose between Harry Potter and Ron Weasley it seemed obvious that he was not the smart choice. And Hermione always made the smart choice.

But then Harry had made it clear that he had never been interested in her like that. Something that quite honestly had never occurred to him. He had taken it for granted that everyone would see in Hermione what he did but thank Merlin that wasn't the case. Still, they had been fighting for weeks at that point, he couldn't tell her that he had feelings for her when the two of them had not even been speaking. And then he had learned about her attack and suddenly it simultaneously seemed out of the question to pursue her romantically when he was vulnerable, and he had never needed to protect her more.

There had been no such complications when it came to Lavender. "Hey there," she greeted him with a deep kiss that gave him a thrilling jolt of desire and lust in places that were thankfully covered by robes. "Where's Harry?"

And that question took care of that little problem when it came to his girlfriend.

"Really now? You're going ask about that prat while you're kissing me?" he teased her.

"Well... he is the Chosen One... the prophesized savior that is going to rid the world of pure evil... what have you got to offer me?" she asked with a sly grin as she wrapped herself a bit tighter around his neck.

"Oh me? Well now how many blokes do you know that can say that when they get hand me downs it's not just from their older brother but from _five_ older brothers? These right here? These aren't just any robes, these are toughest robes you could ever find. These robes are probably old enough to buy themselves a drink in a pub to help their wearer forget just how depressing that is. Stick with me Lav and you'll really see something special."

Lavender laughed lightly and rewarded him with another kiss, this one a bit deeper and Ron was very upset when he forced himself to remember that they had class in another quarter hour. Still along with his disappointment he was also feeling a bit proud of himself. Ron had spent so long feeling insecure and unworthy because he had grown up poor but in the last few weeks, he had slowly started to realize that it truly didn't matter. His self-worth should not have to equal his family's vault. He had forced himself to come to that conclusion over the summer when he learned about their Uncle's Roger's illness and considered how Harry had grown up with the Dursleys and even more so when more of the details of Harry's childhood had come out during the year, but even getting rid of his jealousy of his best friend had not made all of his insecurities go away.

It had taken some time after the Healer Sarah Walker had pointed out some of his issues to him. Forcing him to see that his insecurities were not only petty, as he had known beforehand and that knowledge had never made them any less relevant, but actually affecting his day to day life. However, in light of their other problems, his family's lack of money had never seemed less important to him.

"Is Hermione coming?" he asked.

Lavender frowned slightly but nodded and said in a would be casual tone, "in a minute."

Ron held her a bit a tighter and whispered in her ear, "thank you for not getting upset about me spending time with her. I know it must be a bit a weird...having a girl as my best friend and wanting to spend so much time with her and you've been brilliant about the whole thing. I just don't want you to think that I haven't even noticed, so thank you. Really."

Lavender looked at him with surprise before smiling more easily but there was still a shadow behind her eyes, "Ron...I wasn't going to be the one to bring up, especially not now with everything that's been going on because I know she's your best friend and I know she's having a hard time and I don't mind you helping your friend but...if there's ever anything more...I expect you to tell me."

Ron blinked at her straightforwardness but nodded, "of course. We're friends, that's it."

Lavender shook her head, "You and Hermione...it's different than Harry and Hermione. I don't know how different, but I _know_ it's different. Maybe it's just the fact that they're both only children, they act like they're brother and sister, you can see it on their faces when they talk to each other. Harry would kill anyone that hurt Hermione and Hermione would die before she let someone hurt Harry but that's because they're family, not because they're in love. But you and her... that's not how you look at Ginny."

It was times like this when he was surprised by Lavender and again felt rather guilty as well. Even after several months of them dating he still tended to think of her as a shallow school girl that was more interested in makeovers and gossip than things that really mattered but Lavender had a way of knowing people. Harry had always hated crowds and neither Hermione nor himself could have ever been considered popular by any means. The three of them had always tended to stick to themselves but Lavender had always been social and her skills at times like this were undeniable.

"I promise to always be as honest with you as I can be," Ron told her seriously.

Lavender smiled at him, kissing him once more, "that's more than most girls ever get then."

HPHPHP

Sure enough Harry did not make an appearance until about 20 minutes into Charms, sliding casually into the seat next to Hermione that she had saved for him as though every other student in the school routinely missed classes to meet with the Headmaster over classified war information. If there was one thing that Ron had to give Harry credit for, he had master nonchalance in the face of extreme situations a long time ago.

It wasn't until dinner that night that he got to even ask Harry about the meeting and was met with a very rare sight indeed- a smiling Harry. "It's actually good news for a change. We have a way to fight back against the Shield- at least I think we do."

"That's fantastic," Hermione answered her own expression lighter than it had been in quite some time.

But of course no good news lasted for long for at that moment two different owls stopped in front of Hermione, a very strange event when post was always exclusively delivered in the morning. One had an official Ministry seal.

"It's the Judge's decision," Hermione said faintly, her face rather pale.

"Go on then!" Ron urged her, desperate to know the decision himself.

Hermione mutely shook her head.

"Hermione, you did the right thing, you told the truth and none of had to be there to tell you that you would have been brilliant. No matter what that letter says or what they decided, you should be damn proud of yourself," Harry said quietly.

Hermione blinked, two tears rolling down her face. "What if they thought I was lying? What if they don't care because I'm a muggleborn?"

"Don't worry about what if's until you have something to actually worry about," Lavender spoke up unexpectedly. When Hermione and Harry looked at her in surprise she shrugged with a sly smile. "I led a much simpler life than you lot. No one is asking me to save Hogwarts to negotiate peace among Dark Creatures but that doesn't mean that I couldn't drive myself nuts with my own problems if I worried about every little thing. You did the right thing, now find out if it worked. If it didn't...well I figure you'll find a different way to take him down, evil genius that you are, apparently."

Hermione chuckled but did look as though her confidence had been boosted. She took a deep breath before unravelling the parchment.

Her eyes moving quickly over the letter as she muttered under her breath. "Dear Miss Granger...we are would like to inform of the court's decision..." she glanced up with a shocked look on her face and Ron felt his stomach drop.

"They found him guilty. They said it was unanimous decision that he's going to serve one year in Azkaban and his permanently expelled from Hogwarts and is ineligible to sit his NEWTs."

"One year that's it?" Ron asked livid at the short sentence.

"He hasn't graduated yet, did they mention anything about snapping his wand?" Harry asked, apparently having been waiting to hear about such a thing happening should the Seventh Year be convicted.

Hermione shook her head, "wands are only automatically snapped if a student is expelled prior to Fifth Year. As the Ordinary qualifying tests, technically one only has to achieve three OWLs to be considered fully qualified. NEWTs have always been considered advanced mastery of the art. Didn't McGonagall go over this with you during your Career Advice meeting last year?"

Harry shrugged, "McGonagall was a bit distracted during my meeting last year when Umbridge used the whole thing to make it clear that I would never be able to an Auror because the Ministry would never hire me."

"Proving that's it not impossible for one person to be wrong about everything they ever say," Ron added idly.

"But getting back to the point, Ron's right, he's only getting _one_ year?"

Hermione shrugged slightly but her expression as one of clear frustration. "It says that it was a first time offense from an otherwise 'strong, upstanding citizen' and that Cormac was a 'very young man who made a grievous mistake but is still from a good family and further punishment seemed excessive'."

"Hell of a mistake," Harry commented sarcastically, "I don't know how 'stop' is confusing."

There was moment of silence in which no one could think of what to say next. Ron could feel Hermione's simultaneous relief at McLaggen's conviction and disappointment that the sentence was not longer.

"Who's the other owl from?" Lavender suddenly asked.

Hermione blinked, as though suddenly reminded of its existence before opening the second roll of parchment. She read aloud for the rest of them:

 _To Little Miss Prefect,_

 _I must say that hearing from you is never dull even if it is rarely pleasant. However, it can't be denied that you bring me good copy. You and I could make quite a team after you graduate as long as you start to use that creative little moral code of yours to best use. Thought you might like to see an advance copy of tomorrow's top story:_

 _ **Hollow Justice**_

 _ **Exclusive by Rita Skeeter**_

 _ **It has recently been reported by a free-lance writer for this paper who was apparently hired without regard to her former spotty work record, that Hermione Granger was pressing seemingly inflamed charges against Hogwarts student Cormac McLaggen for sexual assault. In what read as something from a (thankfully) bygone and repressed era, the female victim was blamed for being attractive and having discriminating taste, surely a terrible crime to all lecherous men without refinement or attractive features in their own right.**_

 _ **As several Hogwarts professors have attested, Miss Granger has been the top student of her class for the duration of her school career and is considered a fine example of morality and proper conduct as evidenced by her status as prefect, a status- it should be noted- Mr. McLaggen lacks due to his own reputation for bullying younger students.**_

 _ **Harry Potter, Miss Granger's best friend and one of her largest supporters in these last harrowing weeks since her attack has expressed his confidence that his friend would never lie about the conduct of another student, nor would she have willfully engaged in any inappropriate relations as a student of Hogwarts.**_

 _ **It is therefore with happy pleasure that I am able to exclusively report that a three Judge panel convicted Cormac McLaggen of aggravated sexual assault and rape. Miss Granger's integrity and honor have received justice today and her good word vindicated as the lies of one of my own lesser talented colleagues comes to light. It is satisfying to see that the McLaggen family money was not able to as easily hide the truth from the eyes of the law as it was from the eyes of certain others. However, it is with disappointment as woman in our society that I must relay that the sentence for this heinous crime, for stealing a young girl's innocence, virtue and virginity, is only a year in Azkaban prison. I urge our readers to write to the Ministry and encourage harsher sentences to those that hurt our vulnerable citizens.**_

Lavender laughed delightedly, "wow Skeeter really is a bitch but at least she's our bitch! Looks like she really hates Trina Culler, doesn't it?"

Ron grinned, "obviously. She's been taking over as queen gossip and Skeeter must hate that."

"Looks like she killed off her competition and cleared Hermione's reputation in one fell swoop. I might hate Rita but I do like when she's our side. She's bloody brilliant," Harry said, shaking his head slightly. He looked partly disgusted and partly in pure awe of the woman.

Hermione was still looking over the article before grinning, "the best part though is that people listen to Rita. If she starts telling them to punish sexual offenders more harshly it might actually happen! Think about how many people this could help."

Ron grinned at Hermione, who had that familiar social justice high about her that usually only SPEW granted her. He wasn't quite convinced that the Wizarding World would change as quickly as he might at expect but for the moment he could happy with their latest success. McLaggen was going to be prison for a year and when he got out there were only a limited number of jobs that he could get with only an OWL level education.

Justice wasn't perfect but it wasn't half bad either.

HPHPHP

Harry wiped a tired hand down his face, he had been burning the candle at both ends over the past week and it was starting to take a toll. His role as a Sixth Year Hogwarts student with a Quidditch team only a couple of weeks away from the Cup and final exams just around the corner by day, and somehow war coordinator and diplomat by night. He hadn't gotten a full night sleep in days and now it was a Saturday night and after spending from dawn until lunch on the Quidditch pitch practicing he had spent the last 9 hours alternately studying and working. Even Hermione had left him an hour beforehand.

There had been tension between werewolves and the Ministry once again. While the pack was certainly easier to deal with now that Heilesen was gone, they had started to expect more than they had initially agreed to. In the past few weeks they had grown bolder with their demands, even threatening to go over to the 'Dark Lord' if their demands weren't met, and considering Voldemort was still holding defenses against the Ministry with the Shield, Fudge was getting increasingly desperate to keep allies. However with his increased desperation he was only growing more erratic with his agenda. His plans were alternately cruelly harsh so as to frighten the pack into staying with the alliance, or else so generous to entice them that it would never be a sustainable agreement. Either course of action was bound to lead to instability and possibly even riots and rebellion the only question was whether the unrest would start with the werewolves or the wizards.

Harry had been trying to talk both sides into being reasonable and luckily Dimitri Anghelescu had proven himself to be a loyal comrade in their negotiations. Despite their rather rough start to things, the vampire seemed to have grown fond of Harry, or at least he had made it clear that he refused to deal with anyone else. He trusted Harry and knew of his insistence that the Ministry keep to their word in all of their agreements, in return the Clan leader had become Harry's largest defender both in a diplomatic meeting or, Harry knew if came to it, on the battlefield.

It had taken him hours to first read through the dozens of letters and papers he had gotten, work through what was being left unsaid, research what he didn't know about the laws and customs they were talking and finally construct his responses as politely as possible. He had been writing for hours. First letters to diplomats, then letters to the werewolves and vampires, edits on transcripts that were being submitted and then his actual homework. He had finished three drafts to his letter to Malthe Pendercrast, the newly named leader of the pack, and he would have Hermione and Ron give him their opinion on it before getting Snape's final input.

He was nearly finished with his homework when Daphne and Draco approached him. "Is that really what you're going to hand in for Charms?" Daphne asked him with a note of distain in her voice.

Harry blinked tiredly at her. "What's wrong with it? You haven't even read it."

"Your handwriting should be considered an Unforgivable, Potter. I think at a certain point you're just being mean to those trying to read it," Malfoy answered with traditional sneer.

Harry flexed his wrist, his fingers were starting to feel swollen from cramping around his quill for so long. Looking down on it now he could see that his work had definitely started to suffer.

"There should really be some sort of dictation spell, I've been writing for ages."

"There is, you idiot," Daphne answered with a shake of her head while Draco snickered.

Harry flushed slightly but managed to keep his tone only condescending rather than embarrassed. "Is there a particular reason you two are bothering me or you just coming by to remind me that apparently solving all the Wizarding World's problems doesn't help me pass Sixth Year."

"All of its problems now is it?" Daphne asked, brow lifted slightly in amusement. "Come up with that elusive 13th use of dragon's blood now have we? Figured out how to use Phoenix Tears to cure all the word's aliments, physical and mental? Fixed the divide between Purebloods and Muggleborns once and for all? My, my Chosen One indeed."

Malfoy shot him a mocking smile but was uncharacteristically refrained from speaking out against him.

Harry huffed impatiently but smiled a bit in good nature. "Coming by just to chat then?"

"Been here quite a while haven't you?" Daphne asked casually but there was strange note in her voice, one that might have even been concern.

"Trying to get as much done now before the match next week," Harry grinned at Malfoy, "Quidditch Final and we intend to win."

"Don't think we're going to roll over for you Potter, our Chasers have been practicing a few new moves."

"And my Chasers are perfecting the old ones. Ginny and Katie are pretty much unstoppable together."

Daphne shook her head, "for a girl that really screwed you Potter, you don't mind singing her praises."

"Technically I believe she screwed Neville," Harry answered archly causing Malfoy to sputter slightly in surprise, "but that doesn't mean that she's still not a good Chaser. My team is chosen by talent, not who I personally like. And as for Ginny," he sighed, "there was a lot more to that than most people think. Its..." he shook his head, unwilling to talk about it more. Dating the Chosen One was no simple task, but he doubted that either one of them would be sympathetic.

Daphne glanced around and nodded in the direction of a few over industrious Ravenclaws that were still present only an hour before curfew. "Can you finish that tomorrow? We need to talk and we don't want to do it here."

Harry glanced up to see Malfoy's solemn expression and gathered his books without further comment. "Room of Requirement?" he asked quietly.

They both nodded looking slightly relieved that he had come easily but Harry knew better than to push his tenuous alliance with Malfoy too far. He had been surprised when the Slytherin had come to him and even slightly impressed. He knew that it must have taken quite a bit for Malfoy to swallow his pride and admit that he had been a 'spoiled brat' a kid and even more to admit that he thought that Harry would actually be the deciding factor in the war. He idly wondered if Sirius and his father or Snape would have admitted it to one another if they had discovered the same to be true of their rival. He wasn't sure about his father but he suspected the answer for all three of them at the age of 16 would have been to carry on the rivalry no matter the consequences.

Even as adults... Sirius would have continued to hate Snape even if he had been given definitive proof that Snape alone could have stopped Voldemort and Snape... he honestly couldn't say. Snape had loathed Sirius- that much had been clear when Harry had had to physically come between them lest they come to blows in Grimmauld Place during Christmas of Fifth Year. And from what he could tell Snape had hated James even more because he had gotten the girl that Snape had loved, but Snape was also good at seeing the bigger picture and leading with his head over emotion. As angry as part of him still was with Snape he felt that Snape's better judgment would have won out over his anger.

At any rate, he was still impressed by what Draco had done and the honesty he had given Harry about Lucius. Draco, of course, had no way of knowing that Harry was more informed about Lucius' feelings towards his master and the state of the war than anyone realized. He had felt the blonde's uncertainty. His shaken confidence and lack of bloodlust that so many other followers had. Draco could have lied and said that Lucius would have done anything to destroy 'the Dark Lord' and get out from under his influence but instead he had been honest and gave the truth as he knew it- Lucius would follow the winner.

They walked in silence to the Seventh Floor corridor but it was Draco that started the familiar three pace walk, saying quietly, "there's something you need to see."

Harry nodded and waited quietly for the room to expand only to let out a breath of surprise as he took in what the room had transformed into.

"Outdone itself a bit with this one, hasn't it?" Draco asked with a smirk. "I've needed to hide something all year and I knew that I couldn't have my bubbling roommates walking in on what I was doing. Nott might have either figured it out before me and taken credit with the Dark Lord or...he might have turned around told you about it, turns out the latter option was the more likely one. And Crabbe and Goyle..." Draco frowned. "Well there was no hope of them figuring anything out but Potter you should know that while my loyalties have shifted, theirs never will. They both...they really only have one talent in life and living under the reign of a megalomaniac that's prepared to give Purebloods free agency to inflict pain on people is their idea of paradise."

In spite of himself Harry grinned at the description, though knowing that Malfoy was not exaggerating took a great deal of the humor out of the remark. "At any rate," Draco continued giving the now large space a sweeping gesture with his arm, "welcome to the Room of Hidden Things."

Sure enough the room was covered in piles upon piles of objects. Broomsticks in dozens of different styles, clothes, books, dirty magazines, and assorted trinkets covered the room. "Obviously not everything is here was meant to be hidden, the room invented all of these objects to make it harder for someone else to find what you wanted to keep hidden," Daphne interjected. "Remember before Potter last year no one even knew that this place existed."

Harry shook his head, "No one in the castle at the time knew it existed," he said absently as he looked around, noting how outdated many of the clothes were, even by Wizarding standards. "Hogwarts has been around for a 1000 years and it's a bloody school. Do you know how many students must have been searching for a place to hide something over the years just to avoid detention? The Weasley twins found the room once when they were hiding from Filch without realizing it. So did Dumbledore. Loads of people must have been dropping stuff here for ages."

Daphne pursed her lips as she often did when Harry corrected something that she said and she could not think of a sound counterargument to what he had said.

"But more to the point, what have you been hiding in the castle all year that you suddenly want to show me?"

Draco shifted uncomfortably but to his credit spoke with confidence. "You said that I had to be 'all in' that the time for sitting on the fence was over, and it is. I told you I'm on your side and this is my way of proving it," the Slytherin swallowed. "All year I've been given a task, something to make up for the fact that I wasn't able to deliver you to the Dark Lord over the summer. Something to prove myself worthy of the Mark and a member of the Inner Circle. I promised I would keep it a secret and I have, no one knows about this even though Snape has been trying to get me to tell him what it is for months."

To say that Draco had not peaked Harry's interest would have been a lie but he still lacked the blond boy's flair for the dramatic. "Draco, what did he want you to do?"

"He wants me to kill Albus Dumbledore."

Harry blinked. "You? Kill Dumbledore. That's just bloody cruel."

Draco flushed uncomfortably, "I know this might offend you delicate sensibilities Potter but for followers of the Dark Lord it's considered an honor."

"It's considered a suicide mission, Draco," Harry told him bluntly. "Have you seen Dumbledore fight? Him and Voldemort together? It's bloody terrifying- and Voldemort knows it. He's so scared of Dumbledore that he does his damnedest to avoid him. Even with Slytherin's Shield he _still_ hasn't attacked Hogwarts but he thinks a Sixth Year student is gonna manage it?"

Draco flushed in embarrassment. "Doesn't really matter at this point does it? I can't do it...the more I thought about it, I don't want to do it. Killing someone," Draco had turned a rather greenish grey, as though the very idea of the task made him physically ill. "I don't want to kill him...or anyone," he said quietly, as though admitting something shameful.

"I don't blame you for that," Harry said quietly. Unlike Draco he knew what it felt like to kill someone, and even to kill them without benefit of magic and to feel their blood between your fingers and hear them gasp their last breath. "It's not easy...at least not for people that aren't like him. Voldemort doesn't give a damn about people. He kills them without a second thought...it not even hatred which I think I could understand, it's just...complete indifference to their lives."

Daphne coughed uncomfortably and Harry pulled himself away from his own morbid thoughts.

"Sorry," Harry said even if he was unsure if he should apologize for saying the truth. "What was the plan though? What did you need to hide in this room?"

"The plan was two parts actually, the first part was to overrun the castle with Death Eaters from the inside, the second part was to get Dumbledore on his own and... kill him."

Harry exhaled shakily, this was the plot that Snape and Dumbledore had been talking about. They knew that Voldemort was actively trying to get rid of the Headmaster but would he really send Draco Malfoy- very untrained assassin- to do what no other Death Eater or the Dark Lord had managed?

How were going to get Death Eaters inside though? You don't mean other students?"

Draco shook his head, "there are others that are followers but only his Inner Circle carry the Mark, it's considered an honor and I'm the only one that he was going to Mark while still at Hogwarts."

The only one that Draco _knew about_ , Harry thought silently but refrained from mentioning it. In spite of his change of allegiance there was still a distinct tone of pride in Malfoy's voice as he claimed to be the only student Voldemort had offered the Mark to. He might have realized that he could not follow the man that did nothing to stop the fact that having the favor of a powerful wizard meant something to him and Harry found it both wise and tactful to avoid pointing out that Voldemort played on many people's vanity.

"His followers might help once the attack started but if we were going to go up against Dumbledore and his Order than we needed proper fighters," Draco moved to an old cabinet that certainly looked as though it had seen better days. Harry stepped around a small pile of rubbish but his foot caught on a tarnished tiara and he stumbled before nearly tripping, unusual for him as he not usually clumsy.

"Who the hell hides a tiara? Is that valuable?" Harry asked rhetorically out of annoyance. Unexpectedly he got an answer.

"You would hide it if you stole it," Daphne pointed out. "And it's a diadem."

"A what?" Harry asked nonplussed.

"A diadem Potter, but forget it, your muggle upbringing is showing if you can't tell the difference."

"Sorry, I hate to interrupt your fascinating discussion on the differences in fashion accessories through the centuries but I think we were talking about important information to destroy the Dark Lord?" Draco snapped.

"Actually we more talking about how to keep the Death Eaters that you were apparently about to invite into a school full of children from actually getting inside. Nothing about destroying him but point taken," Harry quipped back.

Draco swelled up with indignation for a moment before releasing a breath. "Whatever, remember this? It's the Vanishing Cabinet Montague got stuck in last year after those Weasley terrors threw him in. Point is, Montague said that while he had been stuck in there, he kept hearing pieces of conversations from the other end except all logic said there was no one there, so I figured out what the professors never cared to think about- that there were two cabinets are a set and if you get them to work properly then you can move between them."

Harry's eyes widened slightly, "only they're broken and you've been trying all year to fix them so that you shuttle Death Eaters here." He frowned for a moment, "But you haven't fixed it yet?"

Draco flushed once more. "I'm almost there...but it's been difficult..." he glanced away with a guilty expression and suddenly Harry remembered a mystery that most other people seemed to have swept aside, but once again Harry had not forgotten.

"The Hufflepuffs that got sick on Halloween, the food was moved from the Great Hall...you were trying to poison Dumbledore that night." Draco looked up in surprise before giving a single stiff nod.

Harry's jaw clenched but there was no use in getting upset about decisions made in the past. Draco had made him a promise that he had changed and Harry had accepted his word, that would have to be good enough, "well at least I get to tell Ron and Hermione I told them so. And it is really nice to say that to Hermione once in a while," he added with a rueful grin.

Daphne smirked but Draco looked rather shocked. "You knew it was me the whole time?"

Harry raised his brow and tried to say as convincingly as possible, "I know most things that happen around here." Better to keep the Slytherin on his toes for the moment.

"What about the Ravenclaw Common Room? Did you put Sue Li under the Imperius Curse?"

Draco shook his head, "wasn't me. As I said, there are other followers of the Dark Lord in the castle and that wouldn't have helped me with my plans." Not a denial that he could or would have done it if it had furthered his agenda though, which Harry found interesting.

Harry nodded, whoever had done that, Harry suspected, had been searching for Ravenclaw's Map. He hadn't thought it was Draco but that meant that there was another threat inside the castle.

Harry was about to ask Draco what he thought their next move should be when there was a flash of fire and Fawkes appeared in a room that should never have been found.

There was a single message from Dumbledore.

 _I have found one if you still wish to come with me._

Harry blinked in surprise, so startled by the message that at first he couldn't even understand its meaning but as understanding sunk in, excitement bubbled in his chest.

"I have to go."

"What? Wait what's happening?"

"Don't worry about it," Harry said distractedly already headed for the door, "I'll be back later, if you see Ron and Hermione tell them not to worry," he added as afterthought.

Dumbledore had found a Horcrux and Harry was going to destroy a piece of the monster that was tearing their world apart.

 **A/N: Thanks to you all. Please, please let me know what you think about the conversation between Harry and Snape. As I said from the beginning, this story was designed to be a flip on the 'Snape mentors Harry' idea so that instead Snape learns to get over his past mistakes by learning from Harry- even if inadvertently. This chapter brings that idea full circle so that we see that not only has Snape changed but that Harry learns that he was a big part of that change, so please let me know what you think.**

 **Also—quick warning I suppose, the Horcrux scene is going to be the same as Canon HBP which means that I'm not going to be writing it. Next chapter picks up after Harry and Dumbledore arrive back at the castle with the locket with a few mentions of what happened in the cave.**


	42. Penultimate

**Chapter 42: Penultimate**

"It's ok sir, it's going to be fine," Harry repeated for what felt like the thousandth time and he was not any closer to believing himself now than he had been the first time.

Harry panted for breath, his own adrenaline finally fading after the terror of the Inferi, the desperate flight from the cave and finally from supporting the nearly dead weight of the Headmaster. The last several minutes had been dizzying but Harry's mind had been going over everything that he needed to do. As usual in a crisis, things had seemed to slow down for him, allowing him to think and evaluate his next moves.

Harry had managed the difficult task of side-along apparation to Hogsmeade, and knew now why most parents never used it to bring their children from place to place, instead settling for fireplaces or even broomsticks. Apparation was a skill that some wizards never fully grasped by themselves, which was why it was the only skill that Harry knew about that required a license. When the Ministry official had come to explain the process he had included horror stories of splinching vital organs. Harry knew firsthand the pain of tearing a piece of your own body apart by magic when be had made his desperate escape from Malfoy Manor but he had at least been fortunate enough to splinch his leg and not is liver.

When he had returned to school he had been sure to practice the skill with newfound dedication and was relieved to see that it had paid off. Both he and the Headmaster had returned safe and whole.

At last out of immediate danger, Harry had then needed to focus his attention on Dumbledore's rapidly failing health. He had been alert enough to ask permission from Rosmerta at the Three Broomsticks to use her Floo into his office and they had arrived just seconds ago, the trip through the fireplace leaving the weak Headmaster no longer able to remain upright without assistance. Harry moved to steady the older man, his mind still running through his list of tasks to safety.

"Dobby!" Harry called out into the office and sure enough there was a faint pop as the odd elf, this time styled in a jumper under what looked like an apron of some kind and his usual small mountain of hats, appeared, happy as ever to be of service.

"Harry Potter has called for Dobby! Dobby is so very happy to serve Harry Potter at last!"

"Dobby I need you to get me Professor Snape, can you bring him here as fast as possible, please," Harry said as he struggled to help move the Headmaster over to where his desk was located.

Harry awkwardly pulled his wand from his robes as he still held the professor in his arms, and transfigured a chair into a sofa. He had just enough time to note that it was thankfully more comfortable than his usual work before Dumbledore sagged in his arms and Harry had to practically fall with him onto the couch. He pulled himself out from under the ominously dead weight and maneuvered the man's legs up onto the sofa as well.

"What can I do now sir?" Harry asked, slight gasp in his breath from the exertion.

"Severus..." Dumbledore said weakly.

"He's..."

"What in the bloody hell..." Snape yelled out angrily before noticing Harry and Dumbledore's present predicament and his expression changed from angry to grim. It was clear that Dobby had offered the man no explanations before abducting him at Harry's command.

"What the hell happened?" he asked even as he started waving his wand.

Harry swallowed, his worry settling now that help had arrived and he answered promptly. "He had to drink a potion, there were 13 doses, all a full goblet in size. I don't know what it was but it was emerald green and it glowed like it was neon. I think Voldemort might have invented it." Snape's eyes widened slightly at this pronouncement but did not interrupt. He was still waving his wand, casting various spells but he was also listening to Harry with rapt attention.

Harry had never been a great potioneer but he had improved in the last year due to his mother's journals and what had turned out to be Snape's old notes (and was there not a certain irony there...) and knew that he had to give as much information as he possibly could about the strange potion Dumbledore had ingested if there was any hope of counteracting its effects.

"He started off alright but he got progressively worse...it... showed him something. Memories that were torturing him," Harry explained as quickly as he could, trying to be concise whist reliving the horror of the past hour. Harry did not think that he had ever hated himself more than when he had continued to feed Dumbledore that terrible potion. How he had ignored his cries for mercy, his pleas for death. Harry had relentlessly pushed forward and the great and powerful Dumbledore had been powerless to do anything other than obey him like a small child, trusting Harry to do right by him even as he was feeding him poison. He had been as ruthless as any Death Eater he had ever seen in one of visions and it sickened him that he possessed the ability to hurt people in that way.

"Are you certain there were 13 doses, all full globets?" Snape asked.

"Yes, I counted."

"Was he able to drink all these doses on his own or did you help him?" Snape asked without accusation. He was professional, more professional than Harry had ever seen him in his classroom where he used his position to insult and bully. Now he was careful to gather the full picture of everything that Harry could tell him. Gathering information like a scientist- cold and methodical, no judgement just accurate observation.

"He handled about the first 6 on his own after that I needed to help him, after the 10th...I needed to practically force him."

Snape's expression was furrowed in concentration. Strangely, in Harry's mind, he did not ask why Dumbledore would continue to drink a potion that was very obviously killing him nor why Harry had ruthlessly pushed the man forward with the task when he had been unable to continue and in that moment Harry appreciated the man's sense of priority. Facts now, reason could wait. He doubted few other Order members would have had the same ability to separate emotion and curiosity from the task at hand.

Harry was silent as Snape performed several spells that he could not begin to place. They seemed to be a combination of detection and diagnosis charms alongside different remedies. He summoned two House-elves, sending them to different storage cupboards in his office for supplies. One elf by the name of Timble, Harry noticed, Snape directed in a manner that said he had used this particular elf before and if Harry were to guess he would assume that that cupboard he was sent to recover specific potions was warded against all but very few people.

Harry wanted to apologize, to say something to make amends for his actions, to explain his callous actions- whether to Dumbledore or Snape or both he wasn't sure. But he could not interrupt and Dumbledore had grown quiet as Snape had started his frantic work. It took nearly an hour but Harry never spoke unless asked a question and never moved unless asked to hand over a different vial or hold something in place. Time seemed to drip by slower than it ever had before. Slowly the shock and panic from the night's events faded, leaving only a bone deep exhaustion in its place. All at once it seemed as though it was not merely struggles of the cave and potion that Harry was battling but weeks of non-stop work and worry. He could not remember ever wanting to sleep more than he did at the moment but each time his mind drifted to his own comfortable bed he felt a stab of guilt and anger at himself. Dumbledore was hurt...possibly worse and Harry should be there for him. He should not be thinking about his own trivial aches and pains in light of actual suffering.

Finally, Snape stepped back and gave himself a curt nod as though insuring that he had doubled checked everything that he had needed to accomplish. "What happened?" Snape asked, turning to face Harry for the first time still with the same direct, efficient manner that he had employed for the last hour.

"I'll tell you everything, but first you have to tell me if he's going to be alright," Harry answered, unable to bear the guilt any longer but knowing Snape well enough to know that the man would not answer his questions without a promise of a trade of information.

Snape paused and in the arch of his brow Harry detected a hint of respect for the Slytherin-eque negotiation. Snape seemed to consider his words before answering honestly, "he will get better...but not for very long. There's been too much damage. The Headmaster does not have much time left."

Harry let out a shaky breath and took a seat in the remaining chair in the office. It should not have been a surprise, he had seen the man's condition, seen the lengths it had taken Snape to try and heal him and yet...it was. It was Albus Dumbledore, defeater of Grindlewald and the most powerful wizard...most powerful man, Harry had ever known. For as long as Harry had known jim, Dumbledore had seemed ancient and yet utterly timeless. He had never before considered the risk of someone like Dumbledore dying. _Dumbledore_ , who was the only one that could help him. The only one with the answers that Harry needed, and the only one strong enough to truly protect him.

In spite of his frustration with the man, in spite of his reluctance to trust him with his own safety without straight answers, he had never doubted that the man would see them through the war. The thought of having to carry on without him left Harry feeling weak, vulnerable and disoriented.

"He's dying…" Harry said the words in a haze, as though testing out the concept, as though it was new when for Harry death, it had always been present in his life.

Snape paused and Harry had the impression that he had held off on saying something significant before he said quietly, "yes."

Harry nodded, still stunned but pulling himself together. With Dumbledore gone it fell to him. He needed to be strong, he needed to ensure that Dumbledore and everyone else did not die in vain.

Snape directed his thoughts when he pressed, "Where were the two of you tonight? I know you left the castle with him but Albus never gave me any details."

And this was it, the moment he needed to decide how much to tell Snape. He had promised to keep his knowledge of Horcruxes secret from everyone except Ron and Hermione and he had intended to keep that promise until the end of the war. However, Snape had proven himself a loyal ally and Harry had made his decision to both trust him and forgive him for his past mistakes. Harry had been following Dumbledore's lead but it was the man's obsessive need for secrets that had caused Harry so much pain. He had told himself many times that he would have done things differently, that he would not have made the same mistakes and here he was, guarding his own secrets. Hoarding information to leak at the right time. On the other hand, his own father had been betrayed to his death and the death of his wife because he had trusted the wrong people. He needed to find the balance between the two- trusting the right people.

And in that moment Harry knew that the right people included a man that promised that his sole loyalty in the war was to him. Harry could not ask for much more than that.

"Voldemort tells everyone that's he's immortal, have you ever wondered why?" Harry asked, resigning himself, as he usually did, fully to his path.

Snape raised his brow but inclined his head, "naturally, I believe any scholarly man would do the same, but if you're asking if I know the answer to that question, than I must admit that it is one mystery I have been unable to solve."

"Horcruxes. Have you heard them?" Harry asked. He knew that Snape was a veritable master of the Dark Arts but Dumbledore had also told him that Horcruxes were not only rare but that the Headmaster had personally removed all knowledge of them from the Hogwarts library.

Snape's lips pursed slightly and his expression was similar to when they had come across Slytherin's personal library. It was clear that Snape hoarded knowledge the way the Malfoys hoarded gold, there was look of almost greedy anticipation on his face as he realized that he was going to learn valuable, rare information. "I have come across the term but I confess that my knowledge is limited. I only know that it's connected to preserving life by preserving the soul in some context."

Snape

Harry nodded, "first you have to tear your soul by committing murder- not really a problem for Voldemort, is it? Next you use some sort of ritual or spell...I'm not sure on the procedure but you rip your soul into two pieces and place one of those pieces inside an object. As long as the object isn't destroyed than the soul fragment is safe and as long as the soul is safe..."

"The person is unable to die," Snape finished. Harry nodded.

Snape's face was not horrified nor even surprised by someone taking such an action, instead he looked merely academic. "Tell me...do you have any idea how old the Dark Lord was when he created his Horcrux? Do you know if he was still Tom Riddle at the time?"

Harry looked surprised at the use of the name and Snape smirked slightly at him, "I have worked alongside Albus as a spy for twenty years Potter, I know quite a few things about the Dark Lord, including the fact that he was once a poor orphan with a muggle father. However, I also know that by all accounts Riddle was the top of his class. He was considered a brilliant man and a charismatic leader. Hard as it is to believe now, he is remembered as being particularly handsome as well. Which leads me to ask, why someone with those skills and potential would take such a tremendous risk?"

Harry frowned, "Voldemort is terrified of dying, of course he would do it. It's not like he cares about killing people or looking as evil as he does. He doesn't care as long as he's alive." Harry remembered that night in the graveyard. _I who have gone further than any man...immortal…_

Snape looked at him impatiently, "I'm not referring to moral repercussions, Potter. Nor simple vanity like sacrificing his looks. To split one's soul is _exceedingly_ dangerous. Those that suffer the Dementor's Kiss are left as nothing but empty shells. A person's soul is their very identity. All of their memories, their feelings, their goals everything that makes you who you are is imbedded in that soul... to cut out a piece of it is to severe something vital. It is not a risk or a sacrifice that any wizard would or should take lightly."

Harry blinked, he had always been so horrified with the actual act of making a Horcrux as well as consumed with the knowledge that there was no longer just an immensely powerful wizard that was considered unbeatable for Harry to kill but 5 other pieces of his soul that he would need to destroy as well that he had never thought much about the consequences that Voldemort would have suffered from the act.

Of course he had seen the physical changes in the man, the once handsome Tom Riddle was nothing more than a monster, but from the glimpses he had seen of Tom Riddle the child had never been proven to him that the boy Tom Riddle had been any different on the inside than the snake-like man he was today. If anything he had learned that Riddle had essentially been born evil from the start but perhaps that had just been an easy assumption for him to make.

"He was still in school. I know that he made a diary...the one used to open the Chamber of Secrets...and the Riddle inside was only 16 so I guess that's how old he was when the soul was split. I think that was his first."

"His _first_?" Snape asked, sounding truly shocked for the first time during the discussion. "You mean he has made _multiple_ Horcruxes?"

Harry nodded, "Seven...well six really but seven is the most powerful magical number, seven pieces of his soul. One inside of him and six objects."

Snape shook his head, looking faintly ill, "seven pieces...well that would account for the man's insanity. A hell of a risk for a man to take with his intellect not to mention his magical ability..." he shook his head but suddenly his expression turned fierce. "But utterly stupid. Stupid, stupid boy, of course it was the teenage Riddle that would have done this, no rational adult that truly understands the Dark Arts would have made the risk."

Snape looked well and truly furious and, Harry thought, rather disappointed. It was as though he had found out a man he had always admired had turned out to be a fraud...and perhaps a part of Snape felt that way.

He may have truly turned against the man but even long before Harry had known the reasons for Snape turning against the Death Eaters he had known that Snape felt a certain...awe of the powerful man. After all Harry was not so naïve anymore that he knew that it was possible to despise someone, to utterly loathe everything they represent and still respect the power they wielded or the skills they possessed. And now it seemed as though Snape felt rather betrayed by the knowledge that the former master that had been known for his genius and innovation would act so...recklessly.

But Harry didn't fully understand the disappointment, it had worked after all. Voldemort had done the seemingly impossible and survived the rebounding Killing Curse. It was the feat that no one really talked about, but was no less amazing really. The Killing Curse may had done what it had never done before when it had rebounded on Harry but it had fully _struck_ Voldemort and yet the man had risen from whatever half-life existence he had sustained for 13 years.

"Sir...I'm not happy about the Horcruxes, believe me, I thought it was bad enough that I would have to kill the bastard once but now I have to hunt him down five more times. But...well even I can admit that the risk paid off. Well for him at any rate."

Snape shook his head, his expression still stony. "It accomplished the end goal, surviving, but magic...Potter have you ever considered why we have the Statue of Secrecy and more importantly why it is that one of the worst offenses a Wizard can commit is breaching that secrecy?"

Harry blinked as he so often did when Snape brought up a seemingly random subject in a conversation but he had long since learned not to question the man about it and now understood that he would connect the two things eventually.

Harry gave a small shrug, also knowing Snape well enough to know that the man wanted an actual answer but whatever Harry would say would not be the point the Potions Master was trying to make.

"Muggles don't really understand magic and if they found out they would either want everything fixed for them or they would be so scared of magic that they would try to just wipe out us."

Snape nodded, "and do you know why Muggles are so deeply afraid of magic?"

Harry frowned, "well people don't like things that are different but they especially don't like things that are powerful. They can't control magic so they'll always be worried that it could be used to hurt them."

Snape looked vaguely impressed by the answer, "true but a large part of that fear is that magic is not natural."

Harry scowled and his shoulders stiffened, he could hear Vernon screaming the same thing to him time and time again. Yelling that Harry was a freak and an abomination with his 'unnaturalness'.

Snape gave him a sharp look, "I'm not saying anything that you don't already know Potter. Think about it. We casually disregard the rules of physics, of gravity and we manipulate both time and space to suit our needs- it's _not_ natural. And yet magic has rules. It has limits of what it can and cannot do. Look at Gamp's Exemptions to Transfiguration for example- imagine if there was no limit to the creation of food, air, money, space, and time? There would be no means to regulate our society. No economic system that could be put in place. Imagine truly a world in which no one ever had to die, it might sound wonderful but the world could never sustain so many people. The resources, the space... magic _needs_ limits Potter. And because magic needs limits those that recklessly disregard them suffer the consequences- and harshly."

Harry frowned in thought, he didn't disagree with anything Snape was telling him, in fact it made a lot of sense in a way that he felt he really should have considered in the past but that didn't stop the fact that it didn't seem to have stopped Voldemort at all.

"But Voldemort survived when the Killing Curse hit him. The Horcruxes worked and now he's just as powerful as he ever was, isn't he?"

Snape nodded slowly, but his expression was slightly abstracted, as though he was still considering exactly what splitting one's soul into seven pieces might actually mean. "If not even more powerful," he admitted quietly and Harry suddenly remembered a hot classroom and Trawlawney's strange voice proclaiming _"The Dark Lord will rise again with his servant's aid, greater and more terrible than ever he was."_

Snape snapped his attention back to Harry. "Magic becomes very common place in our world, so common place that it is at times easy to forget just how powerful and even unpredictable true magic is. At Hogwarts we teach you to tame magic, how to use it safely and responsibly and it's important that those lessons are learned well. In truth, most wizards do not need to fear pushing the boundaries of magic- they lack both the power and creativity to do so in the first place. No most of the lessons we teach in school are because the grand majority of wizards are too stupid to successfully transfigure a pincushion without help.

"However, every once in a while a wizard of true talent, power and imagination comes forth. Albus Dumbledore is such a wizard but he would never..." Snape shook his head. "There are some things that should never be done Potter. The Dark Lord should have known that but..." he gave a Harry a significant look. "Teenagers are not known for restraint or wisdom. Tom Riddle was once the top of his class. He was arrogant enough to think that he knew better than others that came before him but lacked the experience to know that being able to do something is not the same as having the right to do it."

Harry nodded slowly. "Tom Riddle always thought that he was special. It was one of the first things he said when he came out of the diary."

Snape looked at him with interest. "You spoke with the soul fragment?"

Harry nodded, "I didn't know that's what it was at the time. I got lucky when I stabbed the diary with a basilisk fang. It destroyed the piece of soul that was there."

"Have you any idea what the other Horcruxes are?"

Harry lifted the locket that been sitting in his pocket this whole time. The small piece of jewelry seemed innocuous enough. It was hard to imagine something so sinister and evil hidden in the small locket. "This is what Dumbledore and I were after tonight. We went to a cave and the Horcrux was protected by the potion that needed to be drunk before you could remove the locket...I asked him to let me do it," Harry added softly, feeling the need to justify the fact that he was sitting there strong and healthy while the Headmaster lay dying.

13 doses and Harry had not consumed even one.

Snape eyed him carefully his expression stony before something glinted past his eyes, something like respect. "I imagine that it was difficult for you to watch that. I have worked under the Dark Lord for some time, I know him well enough to know that any potions used to guard something so valuable would have had a devastating effect on the victim. It would have been easy for you to step in and take some of the potion for yourself but that would have been catastrophic. By not consuming the potion you were strong enough to get the Headmaster back and to get him help.

"The Headmaster might not have long but he is not in pain or suffering from the effects of the potion. He has time to set his affairs in order and say any goodbyes that he wishes. If you had rendered yourself incapacitated simply because you lacked the strength to see your task fully through it would have destroyed you both."

Harry looked at the man in surprise. He had not expected comfort from the acerbic potions master but he could see how the man had changed that year. Perhaps he truly had learned from Harry but Harry knew the same was equally true.

"Thank you professor...for everything I mean. I learned a lot from you this year and to be honest...last year I don't know if I would have been strong enough to watch him suffer like that. I would have started to drink it myself and then the Inferi..." Harry cleared his throat roughly, "it's hard for me not to act but I learned this year that sometimes staying back is the right thing. I learned that from you."

Snape nodded and no more was needed to be said. Harry turned his attention to the locket and his hand fell on the clasp, it opened easily and at first he was so surprised by the action that his hand shot to his wand for protection against the soul fragment that had surely escaped...only to find instead a simple slip of paper.

" _I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match, you will be mortal once more..._ " - R.A.B.

Harry stared down at the note in incomprehension for a moment. It wasn't possible. The cave, the potion, the Inferi, the certainty that he was going to die, the fear that he wasn't going to be able to protect the Headmaster, Dumbledore's weak words saying " _I am not worried Harry. I am with you_."

It was all for nothing.

"Fuck!" Harry yelled out. Anger lanced through him and he turned and punched his hand hard against the wooden door, his hand instantly regretting the action as a small bone fractured but Harry cared little. It had been all been for nothing. Dumbledore was dying and they were left with only more questions.

Snape did not look startled or even upset by Harry's action, in fact the man looked depressingly resigned to the realization that the plan had gone wrong. Harry might have grown a lot this year but he still lacked the cynicism of the Potions Master.

"It is not a Horcrux."

Harry shook his head, gripping his hand and grimacing both in pain and frustration at the situation. "It's a fake. Someone...this R.A.B. stole it and replaced it. He might have already destroyed it and everything was pointless."

He passed the note over for Snape to read and let out several steadying breaths, struggling to keep his temper in check but knowing that yelling in front of Snape would get him nowhere. Harry was still shaking his head in anger and disgust when Snape's words cut through. "A failed mission doesn't meant mean you are left with nothing, it means that you have work harder to put the pieces together. Stop sulking when things don't go your way."

Harry sputtered for a moment before taking a deep breath and simply nodding. They needed to regroup and the quicker the better. There was little point in complaining about things in the past. Snape silently waved his wand in his direction and Harry felt the bone's knit back together. He could have still used a pain relieving potion but he wasn't concerned about that at present. He found the pain steadying for the time being.

In that spirit, Harry needed to press forward. "Do you have any idea who R.A.B. is referring to?" Harry asked finally.

Snape shook his head but there was frown to his face as though there was memory that he was not placing correctly. "Not to my knowledge. You've been meeting with the Headmaster many times, has he discussed any other theories about Horcruxes with you? Anything that might pertain to another person that would know about them?"

"Professor Slughorn was the one that knew about his idea to split his soul seven times, I got him to tell me about during his Christmas party but he's never mentioned anyone else. In fact both of us agree that Voldemort wouldn't have wanted anyone to know about them."

Snape gritted his teeth slightly but to Harry's surprise did not openly rebuke him for saying the dreaded name Voldemort. In truth Harry had not done it to be cheeky or defiant, but merely out of habit.

"As for the objects, Dumbledore told me that he thinks it's Hufflepuff's Cup. After the locket Dumbledore thought that Voldemort was going after something from all of the Founders, he knows he got a hold of Cup and he knows that he never got anything from Gryffindor but... something maybe from Ravenclaw? He never showed me anything," Harry frowned. Suddenly, and he was entirely unsure why he had never made the connection before this moment except that possibly he was so tired that his mind had inadvertently kicked itself into some higher plane, but he realized for the first time that twice now the subject of the Founder's other objects had been brought up this year. He had first heard about Founder's objects during the Welcoming Feast but he could not recall anyone ever saying what it was that Ravenclaw had possessed other than the Map.

"And Nagini," Harry added, rather abstracted as he tried to remember if anyone had mentioned something of Ravenclaw's before.

"Nagini?" Snape asked in surprise.

"Yeah Voldemort's snake," Harry answered, his tired brain already pushing the last question out of the way.

"I know who Nagini is you idiot, merely that I cannot imagine an organic, living vessel would be at all ideal to housing a Horcrux. Personally I would not have even thought it possible…" Snape's voice trailed off and he looked pensive for a moment.

Snape said no more and Harry had no further insights to offer. It was very late indeed, Harry had felt exhausted merely doing his homework what felt like days ago but what in fact been only hours, now after the events of the night, his vision was starting to blur. He pinched the bridge of his nose, his sheer exhaustion making his head ache and whole body feel slightly heavy. After a moment Snape seemed to notice his problem.

"It's nearly four in the morning at this point, needless to say it's a bit past curfew. Go to bed. Tomorrow is Sunday and we will have time to think things through properly but for Merlin's sake Potter, I don't want to see you before midday."

Harry was slightly surprised by the addendum but grateful that the Potions Master seemed inclined to unusually sympathetic, he muttered a polite farewell and practically staggered his way back to his wonderful four-poster bed.

HPHPHP

"That's not going to work!" Neville growled in frustration at his partner. It was coming up on the last assignment of the year and the two of them had agreed to spend their Sunday afternoon in the library trying to come up with a battle plan. Which was proving to be impossible as they had been left in suspense about the actual task. The only information that they had been given in order to prepare was to 'create a plan in which leadership roles were able to able switch fluidly depending on the different strengths of your partners'. Both of them were supposed to switch roles various times and they would be marked down for not recognizing when to step forward into command, as well as if they failed to recognize when it was imperative to step back and allow their partners to lead.

After a full year of varied projects and hours of prep time it was clear that the original motive of the professors had been successful; many people had grown close to their partners and quite a few had developed close friendships. The Ravenclaw/Hufflepuff teams in particular seemed strong- though it was unquestioned that the Gryffindor/Ravenclaw duo of Granger and Boot were the team to beat.

One of the dark horses for the top stop had been the Potter and Greengrass match that had taken more than a few people by surprise- but had seemed to work with surprising success. However, perhaps the only team that had been more surprising in nature had been the other Gryffindor/Slytherin team. If there was ever an example of unmitigated disaster in team work, it was surely the case for Neville Longbottom and Draco Malfoy, both of whom were only in a agreement on one thing: each of them still despised the other.

As usual, the pair had avoided having to meet as much as possible. It was Sunday afternoon and the final project was set to launch in three days and they could not afford petty arguments any longer.

"We can't just switch off every task, we don't even know how many tasks there will be or what they will entail! The point of the assignment isn't to trade roles- its know what our strengths and weaknesses are," Neville argued, frustrated with his partner's refusal to even discuss plausible scenarios of attack for the assignment.

Malfoy scowled at him, unhappy as usual whenever Neville chose to disagree with him- which was most of the time. "Fine," he admitted curtly. "What _strengths_ do you think you have?"

Neville flushed in a combination of anger at the implied insult and embarrassment since he could not respond with any certainty. Last year he would have said that his greatest strength was his loyalty. He had once argued with the Sorting Hat quite passionately that he belonged in Hufflepuff. At the time it had been more from certainty that he could not possibly end up any other place, but he had at least taken comfort in knowing that while he might not have been the smartest, or the most cunning and certainly never the bravest, he would at least never abandon or betray those closest to him.

The Hat had chuckled- _chuckled-_ at him and told him that anyone that would speak out passionately against their own Sorting had more bravery than they knew and that he needed a House that would push him to be the man that he could be rather than a House that would accept that he was not reaching his potential.

At the time Neville had not understood. He had wondered why all Hufflepuffs weren't put into a House that would push them to be better. Was it true then? Were Hufflepuffs truly the...leftovers? No, Neville had quickly learned at Hogwarts that the industrious little puffs were the most consistently scored House in the school. Most averaged better than the Gryffindors, especially in theory based question (though not always in creative problem solving) and they were certainly more supportive of one another than the Ravenclaws. It was then that Neville starting thinking that the Hat was keen to Sort people where they would be most likely to develop. It was true, Neville had grown in Gryffindor...grown into _being_ a Gryffindor. The Sorting alone had satisfied his critical grandmother more than anything else he had managed up until that point. And under the influence of other students that valued and pushed one another to do right as they might have seen fit, Neville had learned to stand up for himself. Learned confidence. That, Neville had thought at the time, was surely the reason that he had not been sorted into Hufflepuff, he had needed Gryffindor more than Gryffindor had needed him.

Until this past year...when he taken one of the closest friends he had ever had and betrayed him because of his own petty jealousy and selfish insecurity. When Neville had recklessly hurt the first person that he had ever really considered a true friend and he now knew for certain why he had not been sorted into Hufflepuff- he wasn't loyal at all.

Nevertheless, Neville Longbottom was no longer the scared little First Year cowed by his own shadow and half convinced that he had been allowed into Hogwarts by some sort of mistake because of who his parents had once been. He was not about to allow Malfoy to bully him any longer. "Charms. My Charms' work is better than yours and my offensive spells are faster."

Malfoy surprised him by nodding, "true. Fine then if we're splitting tasks up based on which subjects we're better at then that leaves me with Transfiguration, Potions and Runes. And your offensive spells might be faster but don't forget that my spells in general are more powerful."

"Not your shield charm," Neville countered, feeling the need to defend himself on the claim that Malfoy was a more powerful wizard. Malfoy smirked slightly as he responded, "thanks to Potter."

Neville gritted his teeth in frustration, making himself stay silent against the now predictable jab in his direction. Malfoy had spent the last several months goading him about his 'Great Betrayal' and he was getting very sick of it indeed. Neville knew perfectly well that he was wrong to do what he had done, not simply to Harry but to use Ginny as well. Both of them had been angry and he had used her to hurt him. There had been many times when Neville's self-esteem had suffered over the years but he had never thought of himself as a bad guy until recently.

"Not the point, my point is that my Shield Charm is stronger than yours," Neville insisted stubbornly.

The Slytherin's jaw clenched slightly though Neville was unsure if was annoyance that Neville had not risen to his bait or shame that the same boy that he had teased for years about being a squib could now hold a more powerful Shield than Draco could.

"Fine," Malfoy repeated. "But that still doesn't solve our larger problems. If it was as simple as dividing up which subjects we were good at, it wouldn't be much of challenge and especially not the last one of the year. We need to try and figure out what kind of obstacles we're going to be facing so that we're better prepared for them. Right now we're guessing."

Neville could see the Slytherin's point but that didn't change the reality of the situation, "no one knows the obstacles, that's the whole point. The only advantage to that is at least everyone is on equal footing."

Malfoy rolled his eyes, "and here I was thinking that at long last you had grown a pair, Longbottom. No one is _supposed_ to know what the tasks are, that doesn't mean that other teams haven't found out. It was practically an open challenge to get us be proactive about the whole thing! You have Tackley wrapped around that chubby little finger of yours, why don't you use it to our advantage for once?"

Neville glared at the other boy for the insult, he was no longer fat or even chubby and resented the fact that the Slytherin would act as though he was. Worse than the insult on his appearance, which was annoying but at this point rather routine, it was the insult to his honor that Neville took greatest offense to. "Tackley respects rules Malfoy, she's not going to just tell what the tasks are. And it's a waste of our time trying to figure out a secret that we're never going to solve. Instead we should using our time to come up with simple plans that we can adapt to any situation!"

"Too worried about completely destroying that innocent little boy image you constructed? Longbottom it might have escaped your notice but there are winners and losers in this world and the winners rarely agonize very long about how they got to be on top."

Neville colored with anger but also shame, he knew from experience that you could very well end up 'on top' and later agonize about how you had gotten there. "That might be the way you and your little Slytherins do things but I don't need to cheat to win."

"Malfoy!" a curt call was heard and Neville felt his attention snap in the direction of the command before his mind had consciously made the decision to look up. Harry was striding purposefully towards them, his expression hard though he didn't seem particularly angry. Rather he looked distinctly determined.

"Potter I'm not a House-elf don't snap at me like one," Malfoy rebuked but Neville noted that there was a distinct lack of insult or sarcasm in the other boy's voice. It was clear that the other boy was not about to sit around take orders from Harry Potter but he also wasn't going to disregard what he wanted either.

How things had changed in the last year.

Harry had a grace to look a bit embarrassed, his face flushing slightly. "Sorry, I just woke up and I realized that we never finished our conversation from last night, how many people were going to be in on your...little plan that you told me about?"

Neville felt his own face heat at the way Harry carefully worded the question to avoid giving him any pertinent information and realized that somehow Draco Malfoy was being trusted more than he was. This wasn't right, this wasn't what he wanted. He had always liked Harry...respected Harry in a way that his other classmates had never really earned and yet he had thrown what might have been best friendships aside.

Malfoy's brow knitted together, "Merlin Potter its 2 in the afternoon, what the hell have you been in bed all day?"

"I didn't get to sleep till practically dawn," Harry admitted and titled his head to side slightly as though to stretch a kink in his neck. "I had something to do with Dumbledore..." he trailed off for a moment. "Actually I think we need to talk to Professor Snape about that as well... but first I ran out before you could finish telling me about your plan."

Malfoy glanced with a condescending sneer in Neville's direction before saying pointedly, "perhaps we should talk about that in private, Potter."

And suddenly Neville couldn't stand being on the outside any longer. When he had gone off with Harry to the Department of Mysteries his grandmother had praised him for his bravery and for finally living up to all of the expectations that she had had for him, but he had not gone for those reasons. He had gone because Harry was the first teacher that he had ever had to show him how to do a proper Shield Charm. The first teacher- aside from Professor Sprout who rarely had to see him use a wand- to go out of their way to tell Neville that he was good and powerful and strong. He had gone because he hadn't cared that even if Harry was the same age as him he had always looked up to him as though he was an older brother...not until he had convinced himself that he should care. _He had gone because Harry would gone for him_.

"Harry," Neville said before he could he even think to be quiet. "I know I wrecked everything, I know I gave you every reason not to trust me but you _can_. You were right, this isn't about me or even about you- it's about fighting You- about fighting _Voldemort_ and I want help you do that. Please let me help you," he insisted rather desperately.

Harry looked at him in honest surprise while Malfoy answered mockingly, "sunk in that you're nothing without him..."

"Shut up Malfoy," Harry said without any heat behind his words. They were simple and direct, enough to get his point across without starting an actual argument but Harry's eyes were on Neville. The raven haired boy was looking strangely hopeful at him and Neville wondered if Harry had been wanting him to make up with him all this time after all.

He seemed to measure his words before he spoke again, "I did trust you, Neville. I always thought of you as a friend and then you went out of your way to hurt me." He paused and looked down as though unsure of what to say before a familiar resolve came over his features, "I don't trust many people Neville. Not really. I don't talk about it, and for the most part it doesn't matter anymore, but I learned a few things living with the Dursleys and rule one is don't expect anything. Don't expect them to care, don't expect them to give you anything- especially not for free- and don't expect things to be fair. When I came to Hogwarts I had literally no one and then I became friends with Ron and Hermione. I trusted Professor Dumbledore. I found Sirius."

Harry cleared his throat and his eyes glanced quickly in Malfoy's direction as though even after he spoke he was still trying to decide if it was wise for his former rival to hear things that were so personal. If there was one thing that Neville had learned about Harry over the years it was that he was an incredibly private person. He didn't speak about his fears, he didn't complain about whatever fresh crisis was happening to him and he didn't share stories about his past. Until the _Daily Prophet_ had reported the story about his home life all those months ago, Neville had been completely ignorant of the fact that the boy who had slept two beds down from him for over 5 years had been abused at home. He had known that Harry had a rough time with his relatives, he had known that he preferred to stay at school during all of the school holidays and yet somehow he had never realized that it had been so much more. For him to say much now meant a great deal.

"I have friends Neville. I like a lot of people. But I really only trust, _really_ trust, a few them...but I trust you."

Neville swallowed uncomfortably and looked down, unsure what he could possibly say at this point. Harry sighed and gave a small snort as he shook his head, "but I've decided to give this prat," Harry gestured in Malfoy's direction, "a second chance and I hated him a hell of lot more than I ever hated you."

"Charming Potter," Malfoy deadpanned. "Feelings mutual."

"You mean that?" Neville asked quietly.

Harry raised his eyebrows slightly and gave him a long considering look. "Honestly? I don't know. Mostly I just don't have the time or the energy to fight with people that don't want to fight with me. I have enough enemies, but that doesn't make us good friends." Harry sighed. "I want to forgive you Neville...I do forgive you now that I know that you're sorry but that doesn't meant that I can just go back to trusting you like before. But trust works both ways so the way I see things, you help me, we work together and we see how things go from there. Deal?"

Neville was a bit taken aback by the sheer...pragmatism of the offer. It was... blunt. Almost professional, as though Harry was testing out their friendship and seeing if he wanted to pursue it in the future if it was worth his time. Neville didn't know if he should be angry or just sad at the realization that Harry guarded himself so closely and he was another reason why the other boy felt that he needed that protection in the first place.

"Deal," Neville intoned solemnly, shaking Harry's hand.

"Very touching, you Gryffindors are simply heartwarming and an inspiration to us all," Malfoy commented acidly. "But unless your new best friend Potter is able to give us some inside information on the last assignment than we need to get back to work and Potter needs to get back to...whatever the hell it is that he does."

"Assignment?" Potter asked blankly before flinching slightly, "oh shit...I think Voldemort's job just got a lot easier because Daphne is going to kill me."

Malfoy smirked, "you forgot to research."

"I forgot about the whole damn thing," Harry muttered before shrugging. "Plan A it is then."

"Plan A?" Neville asked tentatively, well aware that their renewed friendship was still in early stages and not wanting to say anything that might be construed as criticism. "How do you have a Plan A if you haven't worked out anything yet?"

Potter grinned, "easy, Plan A is my old standby- don't worry and blunder your way through. Don't die and everything will be just fine."

"Plan _A_ is improvise on the spot?" Malfoy sputtered, half incredulously, half in pure awe. "Good lord Potter I can't believe I switched sides for this incompetence."

"Plan A is to survive at all costs," Harry answered seriously, before conceding with a wry grin "but mostly that involves improvising and hoping I get lucky. So far it's surprisingly effective." He seemed to think for a minute, perhaps coming up with some plan to present to his partner that was not simply 'we'll make it up as we go' when he seemed to come back to the present. "But you didn't answer the question Malfoy- how many?"

The Slytherin blinked as though he had honestly forgotten why it was that Harry had tracked him down in the first place before the tension grew in his stance, "I'm not sure...not many. Even He doesn't want to destroy the school...not really I don't think. It's about getting to Dumbledore so I think he was planning on dozen or so."

Harry nodded curtly, seemingly braced for this answer, probably expecting worse considering the way his shoulders drooped slightly as though the tension had seeped from him.

"Who else knows about this plan?"

Malfoy shook his head, "Only Daphne and she knows as much you do about it. No one else was supposed to know, though Snape knows that I'm planning something. He's been trying to get it out of me all year."

Harry nodded as though he had actually already known this, perhaps from Snape himself, and Neville found himself truly taking in how many things had changed this year for them all. "Have you talked to Voldemort recently? What does he think of your plans?"

Malfoy's eyes grew wide and he let out a stuttering breath, "talk to... have you lost your fucking mind Potter? The Dark Lord and I aren't exactly pen pals where we send each other little notes to keep in touch."

Harry rolled his eyes but his expression was serious, "obviously. I meant that it's already coming up on the end of the year we have roughly six weeks left and Voldemort would want to know how the plan is progressing. And most importantly...do you know if Voldemort is planning on coming and using the Slytherin Shield?"

Malfoy's eyes widened at the implications of not only Dark Lord coming himself but coming with an impenetrable magical shield. "I- I don't know...when he gave me the mission it was before he got ahold of the Shield and even though he told me to find a way into Hogwarts, he didn't tell me how or that he was coming."

Harry nodded thoughtfully, he muttered quietly under his breath, clearly working out his own thoughts, "so what we have to figure out is if it would be worth it to Voldemort to get us both at the same time...it might not have been part of the original plan, he wouldn't have wanted to take the risk of coming to Hogwarts unless he knew he was safe but with the Shield?" Harry shook his head but there was an odd look on his face. It wasn't fear or even anger at the thought of his powerful enemy using the Shield it was almost...anticipation and Neville felt a knot of anxiety in his stomach at the mere thought.

"What plan?" Neville asked unable to stand the code-speak any longer. Harry and Malfoy glanced at one another and seemed to come to some silent conclusion- Malfoy even looked rather mischievous as they said together, "to kill Dumbledore."

Neville gasped, "you can't be serious! Harry!"

Harry glared at him, "I'm not doing it Neville! Merlin! Malfoy came to me yesterday and told me that Voldemort gave him a mission to kill Dumbledore by the end of year. Part of the plan is smuggling about a dozen or so Death Eaters into the school. Malfoy is on our side but we know that at least one other person in this school is either a Death Eater or auditioning to be one- and there's probably more than that."

"How do we know that there's one?" Neville asked.

"Someone ransacked the Ravenclaw Common Room, probably looking for clues about the Map."

"The Dark Lord has the _Map_ too?" Malfoy demanded.

Harry, incredibly smirked slightly as he said, "no, I have that."

"You? How did you get a hold of Ravenclaw's Map?" The Slytherin asked.

Harry looked rather sheepish as he admitted, "Improvisation? I guess the word would be... luck. Actually the family that's been guarding it for centuries gave it to me."

Malfoy shook his head in disbelief as he muttered something like, "only you."

"But all of that is beside the point, the point is someone was looking for it and that person is still loyal to Voldemort, so we need to know if anyone- inside or outside of this castle knows about your plan."

Malfoy scowled, "I came up with that plan Potter, it was _mine_ from start to finish, someone else can't just..." he trailed off as he seemed to realize what he was saying and paled. He swallowed thickly as he nodded, "right I suppose the Dark Lord isn't really above stealing a plan from one of his followers and giving it someone else. My Aunt Bella knew everything I was doing."

"Fuck if that insane bitch knows than Voldemort knows," Harry cursed and Neville felt his own rage build at the mention of the woman that had tortured his parents and destroyed their family.

"Draco think, do you know who else might be given this information? Who might be trusted enough?"

Malfoy expression was thoughtful and Neville knew that the Slytherin was taking the order seriously but it came as no surprise when after a moment he said, "I don't know. I know a few Slytherins- a few Seventh Years that definitely support the Dark Lord but I have no idea if they actually work for him or not. And we would have to looking at a Ravenclaw, right?"

Harry nodded, "that's what I thought to. I've had my eyes on Romilda Vane in Gryffindor and a couple of McLaggen's friends but they don't fit the bill either- and besides Romilda's too young."

"Vane?" Neville asked in surprise. If he was being honest he had never seriously considered someone from their own House being a potential Death Eater and had not expected Harry to have already lined up suspects.

Harry shrugged, "I'm not sure or anything but she's selfish enough to want to make sure that she gets what she thinks she deserves and Voldemort is good at making promises that sound good enough to be worth bowing down for," he said with only a slight look in Malfoy's direction but the Slytherin flushed slightly and averted his eyes.

Instead of responding, however, he cleared his throat and pointed out, "Not McLaggen though? I would think you would be all over him...all things considered."

Harry scowled but shook his head, "McLaggen is an asshole that should be rotting in Azkaban a lot longer than he will be but he's too self-righteous to be a Death Eater and Voldemort wouldn't take someone that's had their wand snapped and is sloppy enough not to escape blame for hurting a lowly 'mudblood.'"

Neville was surprised at the way Harry phrased it but was also impressed that he seemed to understand the enemy as well as he did.

They fell into a contemplative silence for a few minutes but Neville was not especially surprised when Harry was the first to break it, patience had never been a particular strong suit of his.

"At this point we're guessing and that doesn't give us anything. We need to talk to Snape, things are... different, after last night everything has changed and we need to act...I think I have a plan but its risky as hell and I doubt you're going to like it."

Malfoy scowled and Neville was about to question what it was Harry expected them to do when Theo Nott and Daphne ran into the library in a panic, "Harry!" they shouted.

"No yelling in the library!" Madame Pince shrieked hysterically.

"Shut up you old bat this is important!" Nott yelled at her.

"Harry you have to do something...Death Eaters!" Daphne panted, clearly out of breath from their fast run.

Harry's eyes widened but his wand was already in hand in swift, nearly instinctual movement as he demanded, "where?"

"Coming out of the Room of Requirement!"

 **A/N: I am so sorry this took over two weeks to put out- two weeks has been my goal for this story but I picked up some new job responsibilities which is good professionally but has cut into my writing time! Someone commented and asked if my other story was taking up too much of time which honestly it's not since that story is largely written and just needs to be edited whereas in this story I have to write the actual chapters as they come. Thanks so much for sticking with me!**


	43. Battle Royale Part I

**Chapter 43: Battle Royale Part I**

For a moment there was nothing but shock followed swiftly by anger, because Harry had finally, _finally_ thought that he was prepared. For years he had been blindsided and caught completely unawares when Voldemort had attacked. True he had been the one to track down the secret of the Philosopher's Stone and been the one to go down the trapdoor to confront him- but he had only known half the story and as a small First Year been outmatched in every conceivable way. Second Year he had been forced to act when Ginny had been taken, Fourth Year he had been kidnapped before he could even process what had happened and Fifth Year he had been tricked into not only confronting Voldemort but dragging his godfather along to his death.

But this year was supposed to have been different. He had broken all of his old patterns. He had built alliances with people he had never before even talked to, never mind trusted. He had made sure that he knew as much as possible both when it came to training with magic and getting as much information as possible and this time he had even worked with adults instead of around them to get that information. He was supposed to be able to bring the fight to his enemy for once...and now it was all ruined.

Hogwarts- his first home, the one place that in spite of everything that had happened had always felt safe to Harry- was under attack and none of his plans were set. Once again he was forced into reacting to a situation when he was unprepared for the results and it took him a moment to shake off the sheer...injustice of that revelation.

When he looked up he saw that Neville and Malfoy both looked pale, with wide eyes to show their fear and Harry realized that he probably should have felt some of that fear as well but despite his own anxiety, the predominate emotion was still anger and that helped steady him for what needed to be done.

"How many did you see?" Harry asked as calmly as possible.

"We caught sight of about a dozen or so. They're in full masks but I know I recognized Bellatrix Lestrange and it looked like Crabbe and Goyle Seniors were there based on the fact that no one else I know are that massive," Daphne explained quickly.

"Granger and Weasley saw them and they went to get McGonagall and the other teachers."

"Death Eaters are in the castle?" Neville squeaked, his voice higher than usual but his stance was confident and bold.

"Do you know anything about this?" Harry asked as he turned to Draco. Judging from the color- or rather lack thereof- of his pallor, Malfoy was not faking his shock at the situation but Harry did find it rather suspicious that the Slytherin would make a point of revealing this plan only a day before it was actually carried out. Any doubts that he had had about Malfoy truly wanting to switch sides had abated with his revelations of Voldemort's plans but all of the sudden it seemed all too convenient for his liking.

He shook his head rapidly, his pupils still dilated, "I swear Potter, I thought I was the only one that knew about it. And my father never mentioned anything either. We have...we have these mirrors that we use to communicate while he's on the run but he never said anything."

Harry nodded. He had chosen to trust Malfoy, his instincts were still screaming at him to take the boy at his word, and for better or worse he was going to follow that instinct, for they had rarely steered him wrong in the past. Part of him wasn't sure why he was prepared to trust his Slytherin rival who had tormented him for years, who only several months ago Harry would have bet every galleon in his vault that his dearest ambition was to serve his beloved 'Dark Lord' but he could not forget the look of sincerity and honest humility on the blond's face as he had approached Harry with a truce. He could not ignore the honesty the other boy radiated at this moment.

"You knew about this?" Neville demanded, turning on Draco with a look of righteous indigination.

"Draco warned me about a plan to attack Dumbledore yesterday but I didn't think that it was going to happen this soon," Harry answered quickly. On a personal level he still wasn't sure if he had truly forgiven Neville for what he had done but he knew that without question that the Gryffindor would sooner die than allow the Death Eaters take over the school. They were all on the same side as of this moment and they needed to act quickly.

"Malfoy is on our side Neville. All of us are the same side and we need to move quickly. Daphne is you want to avoid a fight this is your last chance, there's no going back after this."

Harry's now long term partner looked at him with a blaze of determination that he had never seen from her before and he couldn't deny that in that moment she looked positively gorgeous. "I'm with you Potter."

Alright then," Harry said taking a breath and forcing himself to focus on what needed to be done. "Ron and Hermione already went to McGonagall?"

Theo and Daphne nodded while Malfoy made a disgruntled noise, "should have gone straight to the old man. He's the only one that any of them would actually stop for!"

Harry let out a slow but steady breath through his nostrils. The plan that he had come up with before had seemed reckless at best and downright cold at worst but increasingly it felt like their only option. If they could draw Voldemort himself to the school than Hogwarts would have the advantage over the shield. There were so many loose ends- too many. They hadn't found all of the Horcruxes, no one had control over Hufflepuff's potion. The school would have to be evacuated. Dumbledore...

"Right well this is what we're going to do. Daphne," Harry paused and pulled over a sheet of parchment from Neville's supplies and hurriedly scrawled a message of distress, attaching his name at the end.

"Germino!" Harry cast roughly a dozen times. "We need back up and we need it fast. Take these up the owlry and send them to anyone and everyone you can think of. Make sure you include the Ministry, Dimitri Anghelescu from the vampires and Pendergast from the werewolves. Hurry," Harry urged and for once Daphne did not hesitate to do as he asked but ran for the exit to do as he commanded.

"Malfoy...Nott...do the Death Eaters in the castle think that you're with them?" He was putting out a huge gamble. It was not lost of him that he about to stake most of the war on his former school rival and a boy that he had only become friends with this year...and that had been before Harry had killed his father.

Nott and Malfoy exchanged wary glances, clearly uncomfortable with the question and Harry saw Neville's hand move to his wand. With a kind of Gryffindor courage that must have supremely uncomfortable for the two Slytherins, they settled on the truth.

"Yes," Malfoy said nearly defiantly.

"I never saw any reason to dissuade them from the idea that I would follow in my father's footsteps. Not all of us were born with a target on our backs, I preferred to keep it that way," Nott explained, his own voice had a hard edge of justification in it. Both seemed to be under the impression that Harry was asking to prove their loyalty but honestly things were past that. Harry was no Voldemort or even Dumbledore. He was not one for contingencies- he had never been afforded the luxury. When Harry committed himself to a path it was with full heart.

"That's what I was banking on... I need you to get to them, convince them that you're there to help and then get as many as you can to Dumbledore's office."

The defensive postures relaxed marginally for a moment. "right," Malfoy spoke first. "And once we're there, what's the plan."

"Then," Harry said grimly. "You're going to complete the mission that Voldemort gave you. You're going to kill Dumbledore."

HPHPHP

Oddly enough the first thought to really enter Ron's head when he first spotted a dozen Death Eaters rounding the corner of the Seventh Floor corridor was that it was really a bit early in the year for this shit, they hadn't even hit June yet. So caught up in his own sense of betrayal at the calendar of Hogwarts' doom he was nearly seen by the approaching intruders and would surely have been attacked had Hermione not grabbed his arm and pulled him behind a wall.

She was breathing quickly and had that sharp look of controlled panic that he had grown used to seeing over the years whenever they had been caught up in dangerous and unusual events. "We need to get to Dumbledore."

Ron shook his head rapidly, "No Harry said this morning that something happened last night. He didn't tell me what, just that Dumbledore was hurt last night."

Hermione blinked, shock clear on her face, "and you didn't even ask?" she hissed angrily. "Harry disappears minutes before curfew and comes back to tell you that **Albus Dumbledore** was hurt and you didn't even ask him what happened?"

Ron glared at her, both embarrassed and angry by her response, "I did ask! Harry was in rush, you know how he is when he gets obsessed with an idea he has and he was muttering to himself all morning 'I have to find out what Malfoy knows, I need to talk to Snape'. Bloke was all over the place when he woke up and wasn't really in the mood to tell me anything, so I told him to tell me tonight. I didn't exactly realize that Death Eaters were going to be attacking the school Hermione!"

Hermione looked slightly abashed at her outburst but as usual she quickly got back to the issue at hand. "McGonagall then."

They were just headed out when they heard a low whistle and turned to see Nott and Greengrass inching towards them from an alcove, clearly hiding themselves from view.

"Nott? What the bloody hell..."

"Not keen to be spotted by that lot any more than you," the Slytherin answered grimly. "Where's Potter? Isn't this the kind of thing he lives for?"

Hermione scowled, clearly unhappy that they seemed to assume that Harry should be involved in something so dangerous even if Ron tended to agree that this was Harry's bread and butter. "We're not sure, he said something about..."

"He was looking for Malfoy."

"He's with Longbottom working on their project," Greengrass answered promptly, "he told me this morning."

"Right, well we heard what you said about Dumbledore, I reckon the Dark Lord must know that he's hurt if he's attacking the school now," Nott said.

"How could he know?"

Nott gave him an impatient look, "you just said that you don't even know what happened but it takes a hell of a lot to damage a wizard like Dumbledore. Seems to me like the Dark Lord would be responsible, don't you?"

Ron blinked at his, shocked that his friend might have faced off against Voldemort the previous night and not said anything.

Hermione though shook her head, "doesn't necessarily mean that he was facing Voldemort in person. We need to get help before they start attacking people- it's the middle of the bloody day!"

"You guys go and get McGonagall, we'll get Potter."

"Why are you getting Harry?" Ron asked.

Greengrass, "because unlike the Head of Gryffindor, Potter won't spend a bloody hour trying to figure out what side we're really on when we have to move."

Hermione nodded and Ron admitted he could see the logic in the statement.

They split quickly and the two of them found McGonagall's office quickly. Hermione hurriedly explained the situation and Ron worried that they would have a repeat of First Year but if the last five years had proven anything to their Head of House it was that when they spoke about danger, it was no exaggeration.

She quickly strode to her fireplace, throwing in powder before yelling for Snape.

"Severus!"

"Professor?" the man answered in his usual silky tone.

"you are alone?" she asked briskly.

"Yes, what is it?" the man replied sharply, clearly sensing the urgency.

"Red alert, the castle's defenses have been breached by nearly a dozen Death Eaters."

Ron did not have a clear view of the potions master's face as McGonagall was blocking most of it but he saw the man's expression darken.

"Where is Potter at the moment?"

"We think he's in the library sir," Hermione spoke up knowing they had not informed their own Head of House yet. "He wanted to talk to Malfoy about something but Nott and Greengrass went to tell what was happening when they saw the Death Eaters?"

"Mr. Potter...went to track down Mr. _Malfoy._..and now Mr. _Nott_ and Miss Greengrass have gone to warn him about Death Eaters?" McGonagall asked in bemusement.

"Harry's really branched out this year," Ron quipped wryly.

"No doubt embracing his inner 'Marauder' his popularity knows no bounds," Snape muttered sounding disgruntled but Ron was surprised to note that there was also a strain of respect in there as well. Ron had disliked Snape from his First Potions lesson and despite whatever Hermione or Dumbledore claimed, he had never found any reason to trust the man. In Ron's mind Snape had never done anything to prove that he was truly on their side and even if he was, it didn't negate the fact that the man was a greasy, awful git that had made their lives as miserable as possible for years. His mother had once called him childish when she had overheard his comments but Ron always remembered the truly murderous look on Snape's face the night he had thought that he was going to turn Sirius over to the dementors. It had been a truly horrifying sight, no the least because Snape had seemed to be so truly happy to causing someone such pain.

Harry had always agreed with Ron about the man but in recent months, Harry had been strangely tight lipped about the man. He had complained about having to stay with Snape over the summer and Ron remembered that Harry had been quietly livid over the fact that when he had swallowed the proverbial potion and agreed to work for the Ministry on the war effort despite hating most of what they stood for somehow Dumbledore had managed to make things worse by making Snape a part of the deal as well.

But he knew that something had shifted since that time. When Hermione had been in trouble and they had needed someone with access to the _Feriulous Potion,_ _he had found out that it had been Harry to suggest going to Snape. Harry had never come out and said that he had gotten over his grudge against Snape nor had he claimed to have had changed his mind about the man. Harry had not even gone so far as to correct anyone else when they had called him a greasy git or a cold-hearted bastard- as was quite common among the students of Gryffindor Tower._ However, Ron knew that Harry's hatred of the man had abated and stranger still, he knew that Harry had in fact grown to trust the vile man. Oddly, despite the fact that in nearly everything else Ron expected Hermione to have all the right answers, it was Harry's trust in the man that Ron was interested in. Harry had always had a fairly good on people and if Snape had somehow managed to change Harry's opinion, that was good enough for Ron.

However, following Harry's abduction and tortuous stay at Malfoy Manor something had seemed to shift yet again. Harry had been alternately angry or silent for days after his rescue and though Ron knew that it had certainly not been easy for Harry to go through everything that he had, he could not shake the feeling that Harry had been brooding over a lot more than just remembered pain and fear. Unfortunate though it was, Ron was more than familiar of the sight of Harry piecing himself back together after tragedy and while the symptoms were much the same, there had been a thoughtfulness that came with the silence that had shown that Harry was trying to work something out for himself. Harry had shared a lot of his thoughts and most of the information about the war with Ron and Hermione throughout the year but there had been something about that missing week that he had not been able to share with them yet. Ron had not pushed, had known that Harry would tell them when he felt like he was ready to talk about it but standing there now, he could not escape the feeling that it had something to do with Snape and whether or not he could truly be trusted or not.

Meanwhile, McGonagall had entered her no nonsense, take charge mode. "Severus we need to plan for an evacuation, I'm going to make an announcement for all students to report to their Common Rooms-"

"Don't do that," Snape answered. "At the moment the Death Eaters are under the impression that they have taken us completely by surprise, we do not want to disabuse them of that idea until the last possible moment. We need to coordinate with Potter, if he's talking to Draco then chances are that at least one of them knows something about this and the last thing we need at the moment is a bunch of half-cocked plans running over each other and getting in the way."

"Are you suggesting that Potter take the lead on this Severus?" McGonagall asked in what sounded equal parts surprise and amusement.

"Don't be ridiculous Minerva, neither one of is taking orders from an adolescent boy...but we can certainly get his input..."

Ron felt his eyebrow rise seemingly of their own accord at that statement and decided that this was far and away the strangest year at Hogwarts yet. Snape cleared his throat, "after all, the boy is going to do things his way regardless of what we plan and I suppose it's high time that we finally learned from past mistakes and included him from the start rather than waiting until he inevitably barrels his way into the situation." Ron did not think that he was imagining the look of amusement on McGonagall's face.

"I'll get a message to Potter, hopefully we can get to him before Bellatrix and the others get the Headmaster's office...Potter isn't going to like the plan that I have but it's the only viable action that we have." Snape sounded oddly hesitant, as though unsure if he wanted to go with whatever plan that he had which was something that Ron had never before seen the Potions Master exhibit before. In the past the man had always appeared nothing less than certain that his methods were correct and everyone else's inferior.

"I would imagine Mr. Potter will either be headed here or directly to the Headmaster," McGonagall before her words were cut off by a commotion outside the door.

There was a bang and a scuffle that sounded as though someone was casting offensive spells. Ron raised his wand just as McGonagall raised her wand to open the door from afar. The opened doorway revealed a slightly ruffled but by no means beaten down Aurora Tackley taking out two Death Eaters only to be overrun by two others. The older woman was thrown forward, a splatter of blood coming from her mouth the only sign that she had been injured.

She was bound quickly with ropes and strung up by her ankles just as two curses came into the room and a swarm of Death Eaters attacked in mass. Snape was gone from the fire in a heartbeat but McGonagall was a sight to behold. From the time that he was eleven, Ron Weasley had always had what he had considered to be a healthy amount of fear for his Head of House but seeing her in action at the moment confirmed that he had never given the woman the credit that she deserved. She instantly transformed the small tins she had on her desk into a steely knives that drove into her attackers. The chairs, the desk, the lamp all came to life and defended her with determined spirit and the curses that were known to the Head of House...Fred and George might have thought a bit more carefully about their years of mischief making if they had ever known what could have been in store for them had the stern woman ever lost control.

Still, she was outnumbered and ambushed in tight quarters. As she struggled to deflect curses not from herself but from hitting Ron and Hermione, she fell to a severe cutting curse to the back. Dark red blood pooled around and there was only time for a strangled grunt before she crumpled, senseless to the ground.

Ron had raised a Shield Charm just as Harry had taught him but it was not strong enough when three separate spells collided with it at once. His shield shattered in front of him and he let out a roar of pain as Bellatrix caught him with a _crucio_ right in the chest. Pain as he had never before felt shuttered through him- he had imagined it and had feared it especially after hearing of the times that Harry had experienced it but nothing could have prepared him for the agony that surged through his nerves. It seemed to last forever and when it was lifted he was too weak to move, and had he tried he would have realized that the pain to left leg was not from the Cruciatus but from a shattered femur.

Hermione was battling furiously, her wand moving quickly as flashed of light moved without her needing to even speak the incantations but for all of her speed and accuracy in casting, Hermione had never been one for much brute strength when it came to magic. Ron felt a surge of panic and in the midst of his chaotic thoughts there was a moment when he had the chance to wonder to himself how strange it was to going to be to die without Harry at his side, the way he had always imagined it.

HPHPHP

Draco blinked but the image of Harry Potter standing in front of him did not vanish. He wondered if it would be foolish if he pinched his arm to make sure that he wasn't dreaming or hallucinating. He was so stunned that for a moment that felt like a small eternity he said nothing.

Their silence was broken by a shrill, "have you lost your _bloody fucking_ mind Potter?"

Potter frowned at Greengrass, "can you keep your voice down Greengrass? We really don't need everyone in the school to hear us right about now," he hissed at her.

"That's the least of your problems, Potter," Nott answered grimly, "stepping aside from the fact that I have no earthly idea why _you_ would want to give the Dark Lord his dearest wish, killing Albus Dumbledore is a bit...impossible."

"You really shouldn't call him the Dark Lord," Harry muttered off handedly making Draco want to throttle the Gryffindor with his bare hands, however, lucky for him, Potter turned his attention quickly back to the subject at hand, "and it's not impossible...Dumbledore is dying."

"What?" Draco and Longbottom gasped at the same time, though Draco rather thought that his was more from pure shock while Longbottom seemed prematurely grief stricken.

Potter's face was grim and there was a strange combination of compassion and determination. "It's a long story and we don't have time. Point is, Voldemort thinks he's immortal...but there's a way to stop him, and last night Dumbledore and I found something that we thought was going to help, except that Dumbledore was poisoned. He has a few weeks left at most. I would have..." Potter seemed unsure how to phrase what he would have done but there was genuine pain in his expression as he struggled to explain himself. "I would have wanted to ask him...to let it be his decision but...Dumbledore has always cared about people. He would want his death to mean something and if we can convince Voldemort that you're firmly on his side, it will have meant something."

"Who are you are trying to convince here, Potter, us or yourself?" Nott asked and Draco had to admit that he wondered the same.

To his credit Potter didn't react to the question, he was neither angry or defensive, if fact if anything he seemed to be deeply considering it. "Probably both of us. I know it's a lot to ask..."

"A lot to ask!" Draco finally shouted because they had not even addressed the real issue. Draco had once thought that he would serve at the right hand of the Dark Lord. He would be the man's most trusted Death Eater and everyone in their world would grow to both fear and respect him, because until it had never occurred to him that one could have respect without fear. He almost wished that he could have honestly said that he had never realized what being the Second in Command to He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named actually entailed but that was not really the truth. No, the truth was more complicated and infinitely more pathetic in his opinion.

The fact of the matter was that killing muggles and mudbloods had always seemed rather fun...in the _abstract_. He remembered how in Second Year when he had seen the message painted in blood red paint in the corridor proclaiming that the enemies of Slytherin's Heir needed to 'beware'- he had been delighted by the idea of Purebloods establishing their dominance. He had once even wished for it to attack Hermione Granger for the simple reason that he would have a shot at the top class spot if not for the upstart mudblood...not that Draco had ever held the second spot but that had seemed irrelevant at the time. But when it came to _actually_ killing someone...

"If I had wanted to kill Dumbledore I could have become a Death Eater, Potter! It was supposed to...it wasn't...you were supposed to be better!"

And then Potter did flinch, his bright green eyes dim and filled with guilt, but his resolve still held firm. "You're right. We're supposed to be better...Dumbledore _deserves_ better...but this is the best option that we have right now and the only thing that I can possibly say is that I would never ask you to do something that I wouldn't do myself."

"Voldemort wouldn't mind killing him either," Neville muttered uncharitably.

Potter's eyes flashed dangerously, "Voldemort would want to hurt him, humiliate him. Dumbledore is going to die and it's going to be slow and it will have meant nothing. But dying isn't the worst thing that you can do, its living a life that you aren't proud of. It's leaving a life without meaning. Dumbledore would agree to this...I'm sure of it."

"Then why don't you go and put him out of his misery then? Or better yet...why didn't you already?" Draco asked stubbornly.

"I didn't do it yet because there was no need and I can't do it because that gives us no advantage. Do you really think Voldemort is going to think that I murdered Dumbledore in cold blood and now I want to be his newest recruit? This cements your position Draco...you deliver Dumbledore and you can write your own ticket!"

"And how do you know that once I get rid of Dumbledore that I don't become a Death Eater for real? You said it yourself Potter, I do this and I don't just become a worthless follower, I become his **right hand** man. How do you know that I don't turn on you?"

"Because you don't want to. You don't want to kill people. You don't want to bow and kiss Voldemort's robes and hope that he remembers that he likes you instead of just getting bored of you one day and killing you. We might never be friends Malfoy...but you want to help me more than you want to follow Voldemort and you and I both know it."

Draco swallowed nervously, he couldn't believe that he was actually considering this ridiculous plan. He should have run as far from Hogwarts as he could the minute his father had told him that it was remotely safe for him to do so. He had gone to Potter because it was supposed to have been the better option...the safer option. How he had managed to go from one madman wanting him to torture and murder people to apparently another madman that was at least giving him a pass on the torture. Morbidly, Draco had to admit that at least he had still made a step up, even if it wasn't as high as he had hoped.

But there was something about Potter's steely and yet completely compassionate gaze that shifted something in Draco. In the past couple of months Draco had started to see that it was hard to say no to Potter's unique...Gryffindoresque brand of impassioned enthusiasm. It was something wholly different than serving the Dark Lord, or at least it seemed that way to Draco. Unlike the Dark Lord it never seemed as though Potter was completely convinced that anyone would actually do as he asked of them, and yet when he gave his word there was no doubt that Potter himself would follow through- no matter what it took. For the first time in his life Draco was starting to see that a person could have respect without fear.

"I'll-"

Draco was interrupted by the appearance of a silvery doe that Draco recognized as a corporeal patronus that looked vaguely familiar to him. Potter was blinking in surprise at its inexplicable arrival and was further shocked when the creature spoke with the voice of Severus Snape, "Potter get to Professor McGonagall's office now, bring back up, she and your friends are under attack."

Potter's eyes widened for a moment before he turned quickly on his heel. "Draco go, find Snape if you can, if not...do what you have to do. Neville, I need your help...Theo..."

"Let's move Potter, I've wanted to see you in action for a while and I told you from the start, leading an army is pretty much your destiny."

Potter was turned away from Draco at this point and he could not see the raven haired boy's expression but he had the distinct impression that in spite of everything...the idiot was laughing.

HPHPHP

Hermione ducked and fired- or misfired rather- a spell at her attacker before getting caught by another stray spell that forced her wand painfully from her grip. She wasn't sure what the curse had been but knew that it was no simple disarming spell. Her hand felt numb and she had trouble even moving her fingers. Ron was down panting in pain, his leg looking mangled and rather grotesque, the white bone sticking out from the skin. From his rather green pallor Hermione suspected that he had only just caught sight of it. McGonagall looked to be unconscious and Tackley was being brutally cut from her binding and dropped unceremoniously on the ground.

"Like shooting itty, bitty gridlylows in a barrel," Bellatrix cooed and her voice grated on Hermione's ears as though they were nails on a chalkboard. She could not remember ever being more scared than she was in that moment. Despite all of the terrifying things she had experienced, until now she always felt as though she had at least had a chance to fight back. Even when Cormac had attacked her, she had struggled and fought until the bitter end, endlessly denying to herself that he would be able to overpower her even though he easily outclassed her in size and weight.

Now her wand was gone, they were surrounded and the single most insane person that Hermione had ever encountered had them in her bloodshot eyes. They were going to die, there was no doubt of that and Hermione had not realized that the thought could crystallize so clearly in one's mind, seemingly without panic.

To the best of Hermione's knowledge there had been roughly a dozen Death Eaters that had mysteriously entered the castle, how they had managed it was annoyingly bothering her. Even now, moments away from death, Hermione's old instincts were strong and she hated the idea of having to die with only questions. But she forced herself to focus on what she did know. A dozen of them and between the four of them in the room only two had been injured enough that they were unable to get back up. There were currently four of them in the room, two in front of the door, Bellatrix and Dolohov bearing down on them.

"Well, well, well," Bellatrix continued, clearly happy to have a literally captive audience in front of her. Hermione wondered if there was a single person that had ever listened to Bellatrix willingly. "We came here for the old man and to set the tone for our Lord's final ascension to absolute power but I never dreamed that I would get to see Potter's two little playmates. Potter just loves you, doesn't he...just like he loved Sirius..."

There was small thump and a second larger crash and Hermione turned to see the two Death Eaters by the door fall. "I still love Sirius, Bellatrix and you might find that hurting more people that I care about is a very, very bad idea." Harry stood in the doorway, his green eyes glittering dangerously and an expression that Hermione had never seen on his face in the 6 years that she had known him. For the first time in her life she was truly afraid of Harry and hoped that the remaining Death Eaters saw what she saw. Because if they did, they would have been running.

It was a strange epiphany for her because Hermione loved facts. Logic. Books and critical thinking had always provided her with the answers that her curious mind had always craved. She hated the very idea of guessing at things when there was a definitive answer to be had, and yet in her entire friendship with Harry she had never doubted him or the fact that when it came down to a fight between him and Voldemort that Harry would...in spite of all logic saying otherwise.

Logically...Harry never should have been able to stand a chance and yet she had always believed in him and yet here he was- radiating power in a way she had never witnessed before and proving her right and she was taken completely by surprise.

"Potter!" Bellatrix's voice was excited, her entire body practically vibrating with a maniac energy that had passed over the edge into madness.

Harry's wand was held out in front of him, his green eyes darting quickly between the remaining two Death Eaters, both deadly fighters with a reputation for being both ruthless and skilled in dueling.

"Bellatrix..." Harry nearly whispered, before his wand lashed out in Dolohov's very unprepared direction, striking the man in the side even as he raised a shield and tried to get away. Bellatrix slashed with her own wand but from nowhere a bolt of deadly green light struck her and she fell. Dolohov had struck back at Harry who shot one of the desks in front of the desk, shooting a ring of fire back at the man once the first curse had been blocked. Flashes of light erupted and Hermione felt as though a body bind had been cast on her as she was incapable of moving in her shock.

A final shout a flash of light and Dolohov was unconscious and Harry was shooting a last _incarcerous_ spell to bind him in place.

Ron was white with a combination of pain, surprise and literal shock. He was staring at the spot where the Killing Curse had come from, seemingly from nowhere...except now that the fighting was over Hermione could hear gasping breaths.

"Neville!" Harry snapped, striding over to where the sound was coming from and after fumbling for a moment lifting his own invisibility cloak off of the shaking Gryffindor.

"She...I-I killed her." Neville was as white as a sheet and taking quick, shallow breath as though he were hyperventilating.

"No...you didn't mate," Ron answered his voice hollow.

Neville frantically shook his head from side to side in denial, when he spoke was high and nearly child-like, completely unlike the Neville that he had grown into in the last few months. "Yes I did...I used it... the Avada Kedevra..."

"Neville, look at me," Harry's voice was different than Hermione had ever heard it. Quieter, calmer than usual. While he had first tried to get the clearly traumatized boy's attention through strict authority he had quickly switched methods and had now adopted a voice a person might use in a hospital. Neville's face snapped up as though he had been struck at hearing Harry's soothing tones and Hermione wondered if the other boy might have associated it with the times he had visited his parents at St. Mungo's.

"Ok, listen to me, Bellatrix is breathing, you hit her with the Killing Curse but it wasn't strong enough to kill her. Do you want to tie her up? I can do it but I need you to know that she's still alive."

Neville was still shaking his head, clearly not believing that the woman was still alive after he had cast the deadly curse at her.

"Look at her Neville, she's breathing. Her face still has color in it. She's alive," Harry said quietly. Neville finally glanced down and after a moment took long shuddering breath and seemed to compose himself. He closed his eyes after a moment he slowly opened them, only too look at them with an hint of embarrassment. "Er...I know I shouldn't have been upset...not after what she did. I-I've always wanted to kill her and then I did...I thought I did..."

"Wanting someone dead is very different from killing them Neville," Harry answered quietly and Hermione was reminded that unlike Neville, Harry had been forced into actually killing someone. "When you cast an Unforgivable Curse, you have to truly mean them. You might hate Bellatrix...but you aren't a murderer and you never have to feel bad about that."

"Ron are you alright?" Harry asked.

"Been better," Ron answered. Hermione moved to check on him. "How's McGonagall?"

"She's alright, just knocked out but the bleeding stopped," Hermione answered having already moved to check on the woman

During this time, Tackley had gotten to her feet and had almost retrieved her fallen wand when Harry turned his attention-and his wand- back in her direction. "Its time to lay our cards on the table, don't you think?"

For a moment, the professor looked genuinely confused as to what he was talking about before Tackley's brow shot up to her hairline as she took in the full implication of what Harry was accusing her of doing. "You can't honestly believe-"

"Teaching people not to use emotions so they can't power their spells? Insisting that Aurors use strategies that Voldemort is sure to recognize and counter? You could have been more subtle about it."

Tackley blinked and she seemed to fight between honest confusion and true anger. "I have always done what I thought I was right. I have dedicated my entire life to training witches and wizards into proper Aurors. Following the proper protocol is the only way to ensure that things are done the right way."

"You're training sheep. You can't sit there and claim that you were trying to help us! The Aurors have been getting run over for months. They haven't lead a successful mission all year!"

"You can't simply do things your own way...there are...there are rules," Tackley protested but for the first time in all of her arguments with Harry, she seemed to fully accept that her position was wrong. Times changed and people needed to adapt. The protocols and procedures that she was so fond of might have once had effective but that was no longer the case.

"I don't think she's a Death Eater Harry," Neville finally said, his voice quiet, his eyes flicking uncertainly to Harry. "She offered her help to me all the time. She's fought against Death Eaters her whole life. She's just... she's just older Harry...its what she's used to," he said with an apologetic look at Defense teacher that had always favored him.

Harry blinked as he realized the truth in this and Ron let out a laugh. "I told you mate. She's a Lockhart, not a Quirill."

"What?" Tackely asked diverted.

"He means that you're an idiot but not actually evil," Harry smirked at her but his tone was thoughtful, clearly turning this idea over in his head once more.

"But..." Hermione started, uncomfortable with the picture that they were painting of the woman. "She's one of the most celebrated Aurors in the field. She deserves our respect for that."

"And there's our proof," Ron continued with a smug smile, "Hermione's fatal flaw. She's never been able to spot a Lockhart!"

Hermione flushed with anger which wasn't helped when Harry seemingly couldn't stop himself from snorting with laughter.

"Are you freaking kidding me? I told that bet and you're telling me that I owe Weasley ten galleons?" Notts voice entered the fray as he came into the room followed by three other Slytherins from Fifth Year.

"I thought you said you were bringing an army?" Harry asked with a frown.

Nott scowled, "shut it Potter, as if you expected a room full of Slytherins. Be grateful for what you have."

"Quality over quantity to be sure," Daphne Greengrass said wryly as she too walked quickly into the room. "I sent them all out, but we can't know if they will actually get there, or how fast it will take."

Harry nodded, "thanks Daph, though apparently there are others ways to spread messages, but we need to get to Snape for that."

"What's going on?" Hermione asked taken aback by the appearance of so many new people and plans that she was not privy too.

"Tell that for a change you actually have a plan," Daphne added, looking at Harry pointedly.

"More like a rough outline...but first things first and right now we need to worry about evacuating the castle for the younger students," Harry grinned. "And this time we get to use Plan A."

"Plan A?" Daphne asked sounding alarmed. "Isn't your 'Plan A' just...running through the whole blind as a bat?"

Hermione raised her eyebrows at this, never having heard this particular phrase before and yet not entirely surprised that it came from Harry. Proper prior preparation had never been Harry's strong suit when it came to emergency situations.

True to form, Harry blushed slightly before coughing, "not in this case, this time it was more a matter of...selective information."

"And I as your partner didn't need to know about this...selective information?" Daphne asked, voice dangerously low.

"One- really not the time Daph, two for the record, this was DADA class not for our projects and three- you really think I was going to give the professor that I thought was a Death Eater along with half my team who," and here Harry looked around taking note of the small number of people present, "some of which _are_ Death Eaters, my actual plan? No." Harry shook his head as he looked at Tackley with deliberate disappointment. "I really hope you don't think I've actually been giving you my real plans all year."

Nott grinned, "I had a feeling you were holding back. You really would have made a hell of a Slytherin you know."

"Doubtful," Harry shot back. "But back to the matter at hand. Plan A... is House-elves. We use them to get apparate the students out and we do it fast."

"House-elves?" Hermione and Daphne asked in surprise.

"They can get through the wards and can move students wherever we need. We can send them home and if we call enough to get each out by House and grade level then we don't have to worry about anyone doubling back."

"And send the traitor Death Eaters that are in the school back where they belong..." Ron finished with a decisive nod.

"Actually... we might want to hold off on that just now..." Harry said and Hermione did not appreciate the gleam of excitement in his eyes at the moment, it promised nothing good for them.

 **A/N: So sorry this took three weeks to get out and its short too boot. Not only has my real life been busy but I was sick with a cold on top of it and was too tired to write anything worth reading. Thank you so much for your reviews and I hope the next chapter will be out sooner :)**

 **Also: several chapters ago when I first teased the idea of evacuating Hogwarts, I was very proud of myself for coming up with the secret idea of having House-elves teleport students out because I honestly don't think I ever saw that on a large scale in a fic before...except when I floated the idea out in the story I immediately got a review saying 'why not just have the House elves do it?' so there goes all my good planning! Still I kept the idea since I liked it.**


	44. Battle Royale Part II

**Chapter 44: Battle Royale Part II**

Severus strode into the Headmaster's office, grimly resigned to what needed to be done and trying to desperately calculate what it might mean for his newly established truce with Potter after he told the Gryffindor his less-than-noble-intentions. He was surprised to find that apart from needing the two of them work together during the coming battle and the rest of the war, he actually...cared what the boy was going to think of him. It was novel experience for him, wanting the approval of another person. Even as a teenager he had been hard pressed to ever consider the feelings of anyone aside from Lily and even that, in end, had not been enough to deter him from doing what he had wanted at any given time.

But Potter- _Harry_ Potter at least- was different. Severus generally had little use for high morals or handwringing equivocating but Potter had a way of putting other people's needs first that did not cry out for attention or sympathy. He was stoic in the face the tragedy, calm in the face of disaster and yet he possessed an innate compassion for those unable to defend themselves and was driven to protect them.

Severus faltered as he saw the Headmaster sitting in his chair behind his desk, the same position that he had seen the man in countless times but in this moment it seemed terribly wrong. It would have been so much easier to tell the man his plan if he had been lying helpless and weak in his bed. If Severus could see that the man was dying, the way he knew he was, instead of looking alive and competent if not strong and healthy.

"Severus," Albus greeted and Severus was grimly satisfied to hear the weakness in his voice. The man was dying, Severus had to remember that lest he convince himself that he could not go through with his plan.

"Albus," he greeted curtly, consummately professional, "you are aware that the castle is under attack."

The Headmaster nodded slowly before a slight smile lit his face, "Harry has grown into a wonderful man, hasn't he Severus? As I was sitting here, thinking over all that needs to be done and everything I failed to prepare for, I knew that I could not leave Hogwarts in better hands. You, Minerva, Filius, Hagrid, his friends, you will help him. I realized that I did not have a single doubt in my mind that Harry will do what needs to be done." The old man smiled peacefully and one might have believed that he could have died right in that moment.

But things could never be that simple and when Albus opened his eyes once more his gaze was sharp and intelligent. "I have something that I must tell you, something I should have told you a long time ago. Harry cannot know, not until the last possible moment...it would be unfair to ask him to carry this burden."

"Albus, I need you to understand," Severus determined to say his piece, unable to concentrate on whatever the Headmaster was saying until he had made his abhorrent intentions clear.

"I know, Severus," Albus answered gently. "I know what must be done and I want you to know that I will be forever in your debt for the sacrifice you are willing to give. You are offering an old man, one that has lived a long life with more blessings than he deserved, an end that will have dignity and no pain. You will grant me the thing I have always wanted, to make my life meaningful to the people of our world. Thank you Severus. Truly."

Severus was a man too used to hiding his reactions for there to be any outward sign of his surprise, however, his breath was slightly shallow and if one looked closely they would see that his pupils had dilated from the shock. He had not been prepared for Dumbledore to not only anticipate his plan but to give him his damn blessing for his own murder. That blasted man!

"The important thing now is Harry, you must tell him Severus; I should have ensured that you knew long before now. It appears that I am forever doomed to repeat the same mistakes again and again, keeping secrets that should have shared, failing to trust the people that deserve that trust the most. I am sorry Severus, but it is not too late."

Severus frowned, irritated that even at the last Dumbledore still had secrets and plans to reveal. "What more could the man possibly want from Potter now?"

Dumbledore closed his eyes and let out a deep breath, "tell me Severus do you understand the concept of Horcruxes?"

Severus blinked before shaking himself, "Potter already told me Albus. He told me that the Dark Lord made six of them."

"Seven," Albus corrected solemnly.

Severus nodded his head impatiently, "yes, he split his soul in seven pieces but the seventh piece remains in what is left of his body. I understand Albus."

"No, you don't understand, and neither does Harry and most especially, neither does Tom. Tom was reckless Severus. He played a dangerous game and was unprepared for the consequences. When he attacked Harry that night so many years ago the Killing Curse _rebounded_ on him, rebounded upon a person that had enmeshed themselves in Dark Magic so dangerous that no sane wizard would have attempted such a thing. His soul at that point was so unstable that the only truly surprising thing about that night was that there was enough of Tom Riddle to survive at all. But his soul, it was split again and in the absence of a suitable container it latched itself onto the only living thing in that room. The person that has a connection to Voldemort that neither one has been able to explain, and a boy that can speak Parseltongue when no one in his family is capable of such a feat."

Severus felt his mouth run dry, his heart seemed to thud heavily in his chest and he knew that his face was white. "Potter is a Horcrux."

Dumbledore looked at him with pain filled eyes, "Voldemort cannot be killed while Harry lives and the only way to ensure that the cycle is truly broken is to ensure that it is _Voldemort himself_ that kills Harry. That is essential, don't forget Severus, Voldemort must be one to act."

And then in that remarkably uncanny way Dumbledore had of knowing precisely what was going to happen before it did, the door to the office was blasted open, wood and stone cascading in the office and Draco Malfoy entered...followed by three Death Eaters and another student that Severus had never suspected of treachery but in that moment realized that he had been foolish to disregard her feelings so callously. Severus let out a slow breath and prepared himself to balance himself on the highest tightrope of his long career as a spy. He needed to buy Potter a little more time.

HPHPHPHP

"Dobby!" Harry called out and sure enough the small elf appeared immediately, though his usual excitement was tempered with a nervous quality. He was pulling anxiously on his ears and hopping between his two feet as he said, "Harry Potter, there be bad wizards here, sir."

"I know Dobby, that's why I need your help. We need to get the other students out of the castle. Can you and the other House elves transport them back to their homes?"

Dobby was shaking his head and started pulling his ears as hard as he could. "Harry Potter sir, Dobby is a free elf and can do what Dobby wants and he wants to help Harry Potter more than anything, but the other House elves only be listening to a professor. They will no listen to Dobby, Harry Potter."

"That's...alright," McGonagall panted and Hermione hurried to the woman's side as she began to stir and helped her to her feet. McGonagall was pale and slightly unsteady on her feet but her usual decorum and discipline were also present and it was clear that she was not done with the fight. "Allow me, and since it appears that our so-called element of surprise is out," she pointed her wand at her throat, " _'All students are to report to their respective Common Room immediately. This is an emergency situation, return to your Common Rooms and await further instructions from your Head of House'_ ".

She nodded as though satisfied before adding, this time only for the benefit of the people in the room. "No need to give any further information away. She called four different names and four different House elves appeared. "As the primary caregivers of the Four Houses, I am entrusting you with a very important responsibility. Use your authority to get the other House-elves to help you to evacuate the students back to their respective homes. Start with the First Years and work your way up. Seventh Years must be asked permission first before you remove them from the grounds as they are of age but leave no one else behind."

"Professor!" Harry spoke up quickly, "I don't think we should do that. I have...Draco is working on something that we need but we can't have him be the only person left behind or we're essentially proving that he's on our side. If a student fights to be here, than I know that means that they must be serving Voldemort...and we should let them stay."

McGonagall looked as though she was going to argue this point and Harry understood. The last thing they needed was to be fighting other students on top of fighting the invading Death Eaters but in order for his plan to work he needed for it to look as though they were unable to get out _anyone_ that refused to go. After a moment she turned back to the elves, "do as Mr. Potter says, if any student refuses to go do not make them but report back to myself, Severus, Filius, Pomona...or Mr. Potter as to who is staying."

"Yes ma'am," the elves chorused before disapparating.

Harry looked up at his Head of House in surprise at his inclusion in what was essentially the established leadership of the school. "Don't look so surprised Potter, after years of you running around us and playing the hero I imagine the only way I can ensure that you don't ignore me completely is to put you in charge," she huffed, grimacing slightly at the pain in her side from the curses she sustained.

Harry nodded turning to direct everyone to the next part of his highly improvised plan but was interrupted by the sudden arrival of silvery jackal that spoke in the voice of Fred Weasley, ' _Harry we're on our way and we have reinforcements. If you can keep the Three Eyed Witch clear than we'll be there in minutes. We're bringing that new line we told you about with us and a few other surprises._ '

Harry turned to McGonagall, "was _anyone_ going to show me that you can send messages with a Patronus? That really would have come in handy last year, don't you think?" he asked thinking of the fact that he had believed that he had had no means of contacting Sirius.

"It's an Order secret Mr. Potter...one admittedly in retrospect that would have prudent to have shared with you," McGonagall admitted sounding oddly sheepish. She seemed to busy herself with casting several healing charms on Ron, making sure that her student was in good condition and Harry was relieved to see his friend's expression smooth out as pain disappeared from his various injuries and bloody gashes smooth away into newly healed scars.

"Was that one of the Weasleys?" Nott asked.

"Fred," Harry answered absently, his mind working furiously to think of everything that they needed to do in the next few minutes.

"What 'line' are they are talking about?" Daphne asked.

"You know the twins own a joke shop, but they've also been supplying the Ministry with loads of Defense materials. They also have shield hats and jackets, darkness powder, decoy detonators- their stuff is really brilliant. They showed me some of it over the holidays but I know they've been working on others too. Knowing them, I think I might feel sorry for the Death Eaters. I knew giving them that start up money was a good idea," he said proudly.

Daphne and Theo looked at one another before looking back at Harry with shock. "What?" he asked, suddenly feeling uncomfortable.

" _You're_ the secret investor?" they asked in unison. "People have been wondering about you for months!" Daphne added sounding stunned. "It's been the hottest gossip of the year and you've been sitting on it this whole time?"

"Damn it...first I lose out to Weasley in the Defense bet and now I owe Malfoy _20_ galleons," Nott groused.

"Malfoy thought I was the investor?" Harry questioned in slight surprise.

"Close enough," the Slytherin admitted irritably, "I believe his exact words were, 'I bet you 20 galleons that it isn't some experienced investor with a portfolio that was looking to expand into an untapped market but some reckless Gryffindor with more money than brains that just got lucky'."

Harry felt like he should be highly insulted but honestly didn't have the time at the moment. Idly thinking that he should really remember to address this opinion of him later, he shrugged as he moved over to the desk and conjured a piece of parchment, "I told them I wanted to be a silent partner. It wasn't anyone's business. And besides...Fred and George loved making up half of those rumors. I didn't want to deprive them of their fun. But that's hardly important at the moment. You know the statue of the Three Eyed Witch?" At several nods, Harry explained, "it's a secret passage that leads to Hogsmeade, that's how they'll get everyone in."

McGonagall looked like a strong part of her wanted to reprimand Harry for sitting on this information and surely using it for his own gain but she also seemed to decide to wait for a better time. Harry had the errant thought that it would be just his luck to actually pull off his wild plan and save the school from Death Eaters only to later be assigned detention. He wondered if real Aurors ever had to deal with these kinds of problems.

"We need to make sure that everyone is put into the right position, but I have to get to Dumbledore...or Snape and I need to get to Snape so that he knows about Draco, and the sword I need that..." there were too many loose ends and Harry felt as though he was juggling a dozen balls in the air and the moment he let one slip everything would come tumbling down around him.

"I can take care of that," Tackley spoke up rather unexpectedly.

Harry blinked at her and fought the impulse to shout her down out of hand. Instead he said, "we're not following Ministry protocols."

"I can work around Ministry protocols," Tackley said quickly and when Harry looked as though he was going to argue she added, "Potter, believe it or not you are far from the first person to come up with their own ideas and techniques...you just happen to be better at executing them and getting others to go along with your schemes. I have spent 30 years arguing with 'creative little minds' like yours and a few ideas have stuck. I know what they will expect us to do and I can avoid it."

"I can help," Neville added, looking desperate to be helpful and not knowing how else to contribute. Harry nodded tightly. Tackley, as much as Harry didn't like the woman, was a superb fighter and Neville and she had a good working relationship. Tackley had personally trained Neville throughout most of the year and their styles were similar which was important but Neville had also learned from Harry and likely had a good idea of what Harry planned to do before he had to say anything.

"Right, go and get them to set up a perimeter but wait for the signal."

"What's the signal?" Neville asked.

Harry swallowed and glanced upwards, wondering when it would strike, how long had they already been detained? "Any minute now I expect the Dark Mark to go off over the castle...but you have to wait until you hear the wards break."

"What?" nearly everyone gasped at once. Harry tensed, they didn't have time for lengthy explanations but they needed to know...

"Right now, Draco going to Snape, he'll take care of everything but what you need to know is this, Dumbledore is dying, and once he dies, once Voldemort knows that that the only person he's actually afraid of is dead...he's going to attack the school and we can't take out the Death Eaters until we already know that he's here or at a point where he won't turn back."

"You-Know-Who...is coming here...and _that's_ your plan?" Neville gaped at him. Daphne had turned ghostly white at this proclamation and seemed to sway slightly on her feet.

Harry gave a stiff nod, "and he'll bring the Shield of Slytherin with him-"

"The impenetrable Shield of Slytherin that an army of Aurors couldn't make a dent in? You want to stage a confrontation with the most powerful _wizard_ in the world while he has the most powerful _weapon_ in the world?" Nott asked as the Slytherins that he had brought alongside him shifted nervously, their bodies leaning almost subconsciously towards the door as if they were bidding their time until they could official escape and swear allegiance to the winning side.

"Do you remember what I said to you after Tackley's first battle simulation? About fighting a war?" Harry asked trying to inject as much confidence as he possibly could into what he was saying.

Theo grinned at him as he recounted, "that you don't plan on losing."

"We _need_ to bring the fight here, the Slytherin Shield won't work at Hogwarts, not against the sword and not here in the castle against its students. We have the advantage here and I can almost guarantee that Voldemort doesn't know it."

"Do not underestimate you opponent, Potter," McGonagall reminded him. "V-Voldemort has been a master of tactics for longer than you've been alive."

"I'm not underestimating anything professor, but I know him. He's too arrogant to look for the weakness about the Shield. Or if he did learn about them, I bet you anything that he'll think that they don't apply to him because he's Slytherin's Heir."

"If he's coming, he won't come alone," Daphne pointed out. "He'll bring an army. A proper one."

"That's why we need as many people as we can get." He didn't add that he could only hope that the letters that he had had Daphne send would reach the recipients in time, or if they did reach them in time that the alliances that he had worked so hard to build throughout the entire year would actually pay off.

Hermione gasped, "I can't believe I didn't think of this before. Oh I hope they thought to pick them up once they heard the emergency announcement," he muttered as she dug into her robes and searched for a moment before extracting a galleon. Harry blinked at her for a moment before the connection was finally made. "Brilliant Hermione!"

"What's that?" one of the Fifth Year Slytherins asked.

Ron barked out a laugh as comprehension flooded him as he answered for Hermione who was busy setting the coin up with the proper information. "Looks like we're gonna need an army of our own, good thing that while you lot were off joining inquisitorial squads and doing homework Hermione here was organizing a secret cabal of students to overturn the Ministry and made Harry train us." Hermione looked rather indignant but Harry laughed.

"No need to be so dramatic Weasley," McGonagall muttered but she looked distinctly amused herself.

"Don't tell them to do anything yet Hermione," Harry warned, "the last thing we want is for all of us to be crowded into one area where they can trap us. I think it's better if we can spread our defenses. Voldemort is going to be waiting for his own signal, waiting to make sure that Dumbledore is really..." Harry coughed to clear his throat, not only upset with the Headmaster's imminent death but his active role in bringing it about. A year ago Harry would have never dreamed of such a plan and he realized that while he had changed things at Hogwarts, he too had changed from the boy he had been. He had never truly been naïve or innocent as many of his peers had been but there had been an idealism of how to win the war that he was beginning to accept was not realistic. He only hoped that he was not crossing a line that he would discover too late that he could not come back from. He had promised himself that he would never turn into Voldemort, even if it seemed to be the only way to defeat the man.

"He'll need to know that Dumbledore is dead before he'll attack."

"Right, Longbottom, move out with me and we'll scatter the perimeter with the reinforcements. Potter... you've proved me wrong, don't disappoint me now," Tackley said as she headed for the door with a determined stride that showed her prowess as a true fighter. Harry actually felt his respect for the woman grow.

"Harry, how can you be sure that Voldemort is going to attack right after Dumbledore... after he dies. Wouldn't it be better for him wait?" Hermione asked.

Harry nodded thoughtfully, thinking over everything that he knew about the man and reassuring himself that he had planned this the right way. "If he didn't have the Shield I would say you would be right and he would bid his time but with it, he thinks that he's invincible and..." Harry shrugged feeling a bit embarrassed to say this, even to his close friends, "honestly, after Dumbledore the only person left that he's really concerned with personally is _me_. For a while he's been feeling...restless. I can feel it in my visions. He wants a clear victory, one that will show the Wizarding World that fighting is futile and that it would be easier if they just fell in line. The Shield gives him confidence and the attacks on the villages..." something else occurred to Harry and he hoped that he had time for one more message to go out.

"Professor, how do I do that patronus-message-thing?"

McGonagall raised her eyebrow at this but once again didn't stop to question his commands. She quickly showed him how to adjust the spell, luckily after being able to cast the patronus, the addition of the message was very simple.

Harry used his wand to summon the two most important elements in the coming fight- Gyrffindor's Sword and Ravenclaw's Map. Looking at the map he could clearly see where Voldemort's main bases were, the map even showed what positions were the most important to Voldemort's plans as well as where the defenses were most vulnerable. It was truly a brilliant piece of magic and Harry could see why Ravenclaw was known for her intelligence. He had been told that the objects worked best when used in Hogwarts, and in defense of the castle and he could see that the Map was eager to help.

After a quick discussion with McGonagall and Hermione with an odd comment or two thrown in by Nott and the Slytherins who knew enough of the Death Eaters to give important information, he sent a message to Dimitri and Raymond explaining that he expected there to be a full assault on Hogwarts at any minute as they should have heard from Daphne's hurried messages, but that meant that Voldemort's other fortifications would be left virtually undefended. Daphne was right after all, when Voldemort came he would be bring an army...his whole army if Harry wasn't mistaken. Hogwarts had always been seen as a stronghold. Harry vaguely remembered Hermione saying something about the fact that it was built as a castle originally for the purposes of defense when witches and wizards were attacked. The salient point being that if Voldemort captured Hogwarts, the rest of Britain would eventually fall.

Now all he could do was hope that they got the message and while Voldemort was distracted with the battle at the castle, the werewolves and vampires would attack the enemy's bases and free the imprisoned towns. Harry delivered his message and looked up to see the Slytherins looking impressed with his strategy.

He sent a couple of other messages to the closest alliances he had built in the ICW as well a few of the Order members like Tonks and Lupin setting up a clear attack plan and received a confirmation from the Order members but had to contend with silence from the other recipients as they were not aware of the necessary spell to respond.

Harry felt jittery and anxious, an hour had passed since he had first learned of the Death Eaters breaching the entrance to Hogwarts and yet there had been no Dark Mark in the sky, his scar was strangely painless, and the castle had fallen almost strangely quiet now. The elves had reported back, every single person under Fifth Year had been evacuated but there were many Upper Years that had remained behind.

The entirety of the DA had stayed to fight, much to Harry's delight along with a few other Upper Years that Harry felt confident were on their side. However, it seemed that Voldemort had more of a following than even Harry had wanted to believe and Ron in particular had seemed as though his world view had been shaken to the core when they had learned that four Hufflepuffs that they couldn't vouch for had decided to remain in the castle. Ron had gone so far as to say that he had been less surprised with the six Gryffindors that had stayed than the Hufflepuffs, swearing that he never would have imagined that notoriously 'innocent' House would have anything to do with Voldemort. Harry had been less surprised, Hufflepuffs were known for loyalty- it had only been assumed that it was loyalty to the right causes.

He wasn't the only one feeling the tension. McGonagall had been casting protective spells with her wand and Hermione had been muttering different curses under breath as though to remind herself of different spells to use. The Slytherins were pale and silent but Daphne had come to stand next to him, leaning into his side slightly as though looking for reassurance.

Theo and another boy that had a family connection to the Death Eaters left together after a good amount of time passed so that they could infiltrate the other side. Just when Harry thought that he would go mad from the waiting he saw the spark of green outside the window. The Dark Mark. Ron was staring that mark over their school, face pale but posture unusually straight. Hermione gasped, her hand tightening on her wand. Daphne reflexively grabbed his hand at the sight and Harry found himself returning the gesture with a comforting squeeze and a desire to hold her closer to himself. There was a shiver of anticipation, a moment of halted silence in which Harry wondered if their plan had been for nothing...and then he felt the world shake.

HPHPHP

Draco was intercepted by his two uncles and the Carrow siblings, two families that should really be used as cautionary tales against the dangers of inbreeding, though of course the Crabbe and Goyle families had problems of their own. "Draco!" Rodolphus called in what on another person might be called a jovial tone. "My dear nephew, little Narcissa's baby boy who has been working for months on a way to get us into a castle only to be outdone by annoying little bint from Ravenclaw."

Draco glanced to the left and forced himself not to look surprised at the curly haired, pockmarked face of Marietta Edgecombe. Potter had said that a Ravenclaw must be working for the Dark Lord as they were the only ones capable of getting into the Common Room but he never would have suspected her. But then... Edgecombe had been humiliated by Granger, marked as traitor from the moment the girl had chosen her mother's job advancement opportunities over the loyalty of her friends and the school.

"Edgecombe...can't say I'm surprised that a job where you get to wear a mask would appeal to you," he smirked at her.

The girl flushed brilliantly, her face turning sour. "Granger thinks that she can just ruin my life and I'm going to slink off into the shadows like a kicked dog? The Dark Lord is going to reward me...how do you think he'll feel when he hears that I could finish what _you_ couldn't?" She was taunting him but lacked the stature or intonation to come across as intimidating as she would have liked. She was out of her league and Draco suspected that she was very quickly going to learn regret trying to play in the big boys.

Draco's lip curved slightly at the idea that this girl would willingly put into someone's mind that she resembled a dog. "Considering you have a year more of magical training? I would be more concerned if you weren't more skilled than me. I hardly think that's reason to brag Edgecombe. Though if you had taken a second to think things through...you might have realized that I was waiting for the right moment for this attack and this...is not it." He was bluffing, trying to make her feel uncomfortable and it was working remarkably well. She shifted and her eyes flicked with uncertainity towards the older Death Eaters who only looked entertained to hear the two of them squabbling.

"As for you," Draco continued, pressing his point, "let's hope that you've gotten better at double-crossing Potter, shall we? I would hate to see what happens if you mess things up as badly as you did the last time."

"Let's move," Rabastan grunted, "we don't have time for your little tantrums. Now are you coming _nephew_ ," the man sneered the title knowing that it did not truly apply but enjoying the feeling of making him feel young and inexperienced, "are you least going to finish the job or you going to let the bint do it all for you?"

Marietta flushed angrily once more at hearing how they referred to her, even after she had successfully fixed the Vanishing Cabinet, but said nothing to the experienced Death Eater.

Draco nodded curtly but said nothing, his face becoming a blank mask and his posture stiffened into one of perfect pureblood breeding. He had learned from a young age how to play this role and while the last several months had taught him that the cost of the game was too high for him, it didn't mean that he had forgotten the rules. He followed at a steady pace, not showing his inner conflict and reassuring himself that he shouldn't have any. He smirked slightly, his father had once told him that positioning was the most important element of success. Placing yourself in the correct social circles, investing in the right markets, being seen supporting the 'right' (popular) causes- all of these things were what led to status and wealth. Lucius had served in the Inner Circle of the Dark Lord when the man had been the most powerful wizard in Europe. Then he had aligned himself with the right people after the war and established himself as a traditional but upstanding member of the Elite. Throughout Draco's childhood he had enjoyed the benefits of his father's wealth and status and they were two things that he had no intentions of willingly abandoning. Intelligence, alliances and timing were the keys to success according to Lucius Malfoy.

And in this moment, _somehow_ , Draco had arrived at the perfect position.

Safe from suspicion from the Death Eaters or the Dark Lord and yet safe from recrimination if the Dark Lord failed and Potter won. Grimly, Draco acknowledged that his father would be incredibly proud of him but at the moment his heart was too busy trying to beat out of his chest. There had been a time in the not so distant past when he had fancied himself Potter's rival. From their first day at school, the Gryffindor had offended him in every conceivable way. He had rejected his offer of friendship, Potter's sharp tongue was the only one that seemed imperious to his insults, Potter's Quidditch skills were second to none and his fame seemed to only grown with time. And yet rather naively, Draco had never really doubted that in the end he would triumph over the scruffy Half-Blood. The so called 'Chosen One's' mannerisms could only be described as plebian, his intelligence and achievement were average at best, he had only two real friends to his name so he was hardly considered popular- he had always appeared...ordinary.

And then Draco had seen Potter shatter the Dark Lord's wand. He had watched from the sidelines as he had somehow brokered alliances with both werewolves and vampires. He had been shocked to learn Potter had escaped from the Malfoy dungeons, a feat that he had been told his whole life was impossible. Finally, he had seen firsthand that Potter cared more about his friends than anything in the world. He was loyal to a fault and pushed himself into situations that no sane person would ever even contemplate but for Potter it wasn't arrogance or a death wish- it was sacrifice. It was duty and honor and as Draco made that walk to the Headmaster's office he desperately hoped that his role in the war was over because he didn't have the will that Potter did.

They entered the small office with more pomp than the circumstances really required but Draco barely noticed the noise, time seemed to have stopped for him and all he could think was in the next few moments he would be a murderer. He glanced up and saw Snape and felt the smallest release of tension. Snape was there, and Potter trusted Snape.

And if that wasn't a strange sentiment all around. Potter trusted Snape and Draco trusted Potter more than he trusted perhaps anyone else at the moment. His mother had once told him that war changed people but he hadn't thought he it would turn him to a Blood Traitor sympathizer.

"Rabastan, there are simpler ways to go about things. Not everything needs to be a demonstration in destruction," Snape sniffed, sounding almost bored with the proceedings. His wand was trained on Dumbledore who sat with seeming complacency at his desk. There was no sign of the older man's wand but Draco wasn't sure if it was simply out of sight or had already been taken. Either way the Headmaster seemed to be making no attempt at actually resisting.

"What are _you_ doing here Snape?" Rodolphus sneered at him, his pale face coloring at the sight of other wizard already in the Headmaster's office having already cornered the man's prey.

"Cleaning up after your blatant incompetence," Snape sneered, his voice colder than the time in Fourth Year when somehow Longbottom had managed to melt not only his own cauldron but the one beside it as well.

"We're here!" Alecto Carrow called out triumphantly. "We got past Dumbledore's impenetrable wards and right under his nose to boot!"

"And in the middle of the bloody day," Snape's silky voice was filled with mocking exasperation. "The entire castle is aware of your presence and I've already been informed that Bellatrix, Dolohov, Yaxley _and_ Blane have been taken out by Minerva and a _Weasley_! We don't even know where Potter is at the moment but you can be assured that he is already launching his own defense. He isn't quite as foolishly idiotic as last year and has already been establishing contingencies for an event of this kind. I warned you," Snape whispered threatening and while Rodolphus' voice had been brutal and harsh in his demand, Snape's was frighteningly calm. "Months ago I told you that we could not afford to underestimate the boy any longer and now you have gone and played directly into his hands!"

"Potter is a blowhard Gryffindor that thrives on danger in the moment, you really believe that he has an array of defense strategies ready at hand?" Amycus Carrow asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Potter's greatest weakness in the past was his stubborn belief that he was fighting a war alone. He was isolated and vulnerable and he was often convinced that he could depend on no one. He has learned this year the importance of building alliances and using help where it is offered. Potter lacks any strategic ability but if any of you learned to actually _use_ the information that I provide you, you would be aware that the Granger girl is far from stupid and she hasn't been spotted yet either."

"The little mudblood?" Rabastan chortled and Snape's eyes narrowed with anger but not before flicking his eyes subtly in Draco's direction in such a way that the younger Slytherin understood. They were buying time. Granger and Weasley had been together and the two of them would not have separated willingly at a time like this, Potter and his friends needed time for whatever defense they were actually planning to mount and Snape was going to give them as much time as possible. Draco had no idea what Potter was actually planning but he could only hope it was a way to ensure that once Dumbledore was dead the rest of the school would be secured from further attack.

However, despite his main objective, Draco had a feeling that when Snape spoke again his words were not mere acting. "You may choose to disregard her worth simply because of her muggle parents but...need I remind you that Lily Evans might have fallen before the Dark Lord but it was _her_ actions that lead to his demise for thirteen long years. Do not underestimate someone's power simply because it is uncomfortable for you to come to terms with your own failings and insecurity."

Amycus smirked in Snape's direction, "never did get over that one, did you Severus?" she asked softly and Draco glanced up in confusion. He had put together that this 'Lily Evans' was actually Potter's mother, though why Snape would refer to the woman by her maiden name was beyond him or why the man had such hatred in his eyes as he spoke of her memory.

Trying to appear- and for perhaps the first time in life, to Draco's knowledge, failing- undeterred by the comment, Snape seemed to push forward, "Nevertheless, I believe the goal of this little...coup was to take over silently and efficiently, not blunder about like a bunch of...Gryffindors. Mr. Malfoy I trust that you at least considered these small details before executing this little... attack of yours?"

The Death Eaters were flushed with a combination of embarrassment and anger at the dressing down that they had received but Snape was looking at Draco expectantly and he knew that this was the ultimate test. The two Slytherins had never truly discussed their loyalties with any honesty but somewhere along the line it had become clear to both of them that they stood with Potter and not the Dark Lord. But Severus Snape was a cunning man and he was not about to entrust everything without knowing that Draco's resolve had not faltered at the last moment.

Draco's Slytherin mask on and he responded with appropriate condescension. "In the absence of having any original ideas to contribute of her own it seems," and here he dipped his tone to borderline revulsion, "Edgecomb felt that she could take the credit for my own plan. She finished the cabinet ahead of the schedule that _we_ arranged together sir, the one that would strike when the Ministry officials were staying in quarters for the OWL and NEWT exams so that they could be eliminated at the same time, and then decided it would be best to strike in the middle of the day. A _weekend_ day when the most people were around and most likely to spot an intruder," he added for good measure. Draco had ample experience blaming others for his mistakes and short comings and he used the skill well now.

Marietta's face was fighting between a blotchy red and a deathly whiteness at her seeming mistake but the only defense she could seem to muster was a shake of her head.

"Miss Edgecombe, what a...delightful surprise," Snape commented while the Headmaster only looked desperately disappointed at the girl. "I'm not sure if you've ever had the pleasure of actually speaking with our esteemed Headmaster face to face before...ah but of course, you were in his office only last year. Working for the Ministry," he added significantly before the assembled Death Eaters.

Dumbledore seemed to frown at the deliberate attempt to question the girl's loyalty in front of such dangerous men but the Head of Slytherin was nothing if not vindictive and this girl had put them all in danger by launching a surprise attack.

"They were breaking the law, there was no reason not to- people should be rewarded for doing what is right," she flushed as she said this as she seemed to recognize what a ridiculous argument she was making in light of her present company.

Where most people would have looked livid at the position the girl had put him in, Dumbledore only looked at her with frank disappointment, "If you are so concerned with doing the right thing my dear, why have you made the choices that you have made? You have been passing information to a dangerous individual at the risk of endangering your friends-"

"Friends!" Marietta scoffed and suddenly she seemed quite unhinged, eager to share what it was that had tipped her hand and changed her from a Ministry follower to a Death Eater. While on any other day, the potions master would have been the last person that would have wanted to listen to a teenage girl's angst ridden confession, Snape was clearly prepared to use the girl's histrionics to his advantage and keep running the clock. Neither one of them were entirely sure what Potter was planning but Draco was reasonably sure that Snape at least knew that the Gryffindor was trying to get reinforcements and they would take time to arrive.

"The Dark Lord might be harsh but he at least recognizes what it means to be a proper witch! That- that little mudblood did this to me!" she cried gesturing to her face with obvious distress. "And no one cared! No one has even _thought_ about me at all _year_! It like I don't even exist at this school! Granger- she-she _ruined_ my face and she didn't even serve a detention for it! And then that little slut gets McLaggen in trouble, I bet you anything he didn't even do anything to her, she is little liar! But once the Dark Lord takes over she and all her upstart little mudblood friends are going to know their place."

"While your distress is understandable I would prefer if you not use such an offense term in front of me, my dear," Dumbledore answered her calmly. Marietta looked livid but Dumbledore continued before she could speak again, "and I do believe that I owe you a most sincere apology. I have been known to ignore what I see as small obstacles when I am consumed with larger ones. In my preoccupation last year with the return of Voldemort," here there was a collective gasp and shouts of indignation over the use of their beloved master's name from around the room but Dumbledore only smiled, "my apologies, I should be addressing him as Tom. But again, with my attention focused on a coming war and the hostilities of the Ministry towards myself and- regrettably to a lesser extent than it required- with my attention on Harry Potter, I overlooked your own distress with a problem that was in no way a small one in your life. It was wrong, sincerely, and I am sorry."

Draco waited for the man to continue with a lecture about how that did not excuse the choices that she had made next, to remind her that he had been helping the good of the school while she had helped invaders in that would harm others. However, the old man said nothing more, allowing his apology to stand on its own without diminishing its value by placing it next to her own choices. Draco had the damnedest idea that the man knew perfectly well that she would make the connection on her own and would feel all the worse for it anyway.

"Are we through with the life monologues!" Rabastan growled, clearly impatient. "We came here to kill the old codger not have tea!"

"By all means," Snape answered graciously, "I had not realized that you were so uncomfortable with the idea of killing the old man that you have been in distress this whole time waiting for it be over. Some of us...some of us have waited a long time for this moment and would prefer it not be wasted," he said with a hard look in Dumbledore's direction. The damn twinkle in the man's eye only seemed to brighten rather than fade.

"It's Draco task, he should be the one to do it!" Alecto, who had been very quiet up until now, finally said, challenge clear in his voice.

Snape raised his wand but Draco stepped forward before he could even think to allow someone to take this job from him. "It is my task," he said firmly, eyes darting to Snape as he added, "and the man I promised I wouldn't want to let down." Snape's eyes widened ever so slightly and his lips seemed to lose color as the impact of what he had just said entered the man's consciousness, Potter had sent him to kill Dumbledore and he was going to do it.

"Draco," Dumbledore of all people called, his voice tired and entire body looking suddenly weary, "there are times when we all must think about the path that we wish to follow. And when you commit to your path...be sure to _take all the right steps_ to reach your goal," he said significantly. Draco stared at the Headmaster for a long moment and he wasn't sure why but he knew in that moment exactly what he needed to do. " _Expelliarmus_!"

Dumbledore's long, spindly wand- the same wand that had defeated Grindlewald, had dueled the Dark Lord, had helped the man in front of him lead the nation of Great Britain in one capacity or another for the past fifty years- sailed gracefully through the air and Draco caught it. And Draco could have sworn he saw the briefest flicker of a smile grace the man's lips, a flash of triumph in his eyes.

He saw Snape raise his wand once more and it was clear he willing to spare him the task, but Draco had made his decision, he took a breath and thought of his parents. His frail mother, his increasingly desperate father and knew that he needed to do this for them. He needed to do this for Potter because he was the only one that would end this. And so with no malice in his heart Draco raised his wand and said two words that he had once thought would sound much sweeter to him, but with more meaning than he had ever put into a spell before, " _Avada Kedevra."_

There were gleeful laughs and it was Rabastan that took great care to press his wand to his Mark. The others in the room hissed with a sting of pain, though Snape only let out a wince before he raised his own wand and fired the Dark Mark into the sky above them. The trap had officially been set, they could only hope that it was worth it.

HPHPHP

The closest description of the sound was a bomb detonating but Harry knew that it was the wards shuddering under the strain. He remembered those times in the past year when multiple curses had clashed against his Shield Charm and this felt like an exponential version of that. In spite of everything that he had seen from the man, it was still unnerving to be faced with the fact that his enemy had such immense power. Now that Dumbledore was dead, Harry did not know of a single other wizard in the world that would have been able to topple the wards of Hogwarts as the man was doing now.

Harry swallowed and forced himself to square his shoulders. Harry had always felt that when one committed to a path you saw it through no matter what. He had no room for doubts anymore, there was no time to back out, but with the remaining Horcruxes looming over him he couldn't help but feel that he was only starting a doomed venture.

Around him, from his final position directly in front of the doors of the school, he could hear the frantic movement of people struggling to get into the right positions. Just when Harry had thought that the twins had already pulled off all their best pranks, they had managed to surprise even him. McGonagall had nearly kissed them when they had realized that Fred and George had been drastically under selling the term 'reinforcements'. For the past half hour there had been a steady stream of people coming through the passage between Honeydukes and the Three-Eyed Witch. Harry had been shocked to find among them members of his old Quidditich team, the shop owners of both Hogsmeade and Diagon Alley, Aurors, Ministry workers and dozens of others. While Harry had been building bridges with as many foreign dignitaries and dark creatures as possible it seemed that the twins had used their magnetic personalities as well as their store to recruit a veritable army of their own. Or rather for _him_ which was almost disturbing to think about.

When he had seen the scope of what they had done he had turned to his business partners in shock. They had grinned and held out a medallion type necklace. "You have to really stop thinking that you're the only one in the Wizarding World doing anything, Potter. There are a few of us that can fight evil as well," Fred told him.

The fighters had quickly fallen into the Tackley's battle plan had designed and stationed themselves at every possible point of entry. The castle had been quickly secured from the remaining Death Eaters when Draco and Snape had turned their wands on the people in the office and quickly subdued them as soon as their marks had burned hotly. There had been a few stragglers, guarding the escape and meant to take care of any resistance found by the teachers but they had been taken out by Harry and a very entertained Nott who had enjoyed his part as supposed double agent by aiming his wand at Harry before shifting it to an approaching Death Eater that had thought he was coming to the aid of a loyal son of a now-former-Death Eater at the last moment.

But now Harry stood with the heavy sword of Godric Gryffindor in his hand, hoping that he had not sentenced every person in the castle to their death. He had called them here, asked for their help, even when he knew that Voldemort could not be killed that day. The best they could hope for was a retreat, and even if that happened, would it lose him the support of the ICW and the Dark Creatures in the future if they saw that Harry had been unable to defeat his enemy?

He shook himself and reminded himself once more that there was no sense in worrying, what was done was done and, as Hagrid had once told him, they would meet when it came.

Daphne had claimed that Voldemort would come with an army and it clear that the man was not about to disappoint. Harry's breath caught as he witnessed the sheer magnitude of numbers at Voldemort's command. He had suspected, even darkly hoped, that the so-called Dark Lord would make his big power play here for everyone to see. Harry had never been one to tout his own fame or influence but he had seen firsthand how the Wizarding World relied too heavily on single entities. The death of Albus Dumbledore followed swiftly by the Chosen One would break the resolve of nearly everyone and those that were strong enough, _smart enough_ , to realize that the death of two people should not signify the destruction of their entire world, would not be enough to make a difference.

Hundreds of dark robed men stood with wands pointed, giants and dementors at their sides, ready for the charge. Harry raised his own wand and in that small stick was a reassuring warmth that gave him that modicum of control in a situation that should have left him overwhelmed. He could still fight. He could still resist. This wasn't the end, not for the war with the remaining Horcruxes still out tethering a sadistic madman to life, and not his own end if Harry could help it.

Voldemort, much as Harry had expected, was not on the front lines and there were no flowery speeches or dramatic posturing, instead there was a second of beautiful stillness before the world exploded in an array of light and sound. Curses flew around him but Harry had never been more aware of himself than in that moment. He had spent months training on how to dodge and block curses and he was using the full weight of that training now. He was barely attacking himself, his goal was not incapacitate as many Death Eaters as possible, he would leave that to the others; his goal was simple- get to Voldemort. Destroy the Shield and with it the momentum of the man behind it. Make Voldemort regret the day he had brought the fight to Harry because Harry was not a scared 14 year old kidnapped and afraid. He was not alone in this and he was going to use every advantage that he had. Voldemort had wanted to intimidate the world but Harry had learned a long time ago that no one was more scared than the Death Eaters that followed the largest display of power that they could find. If nothing else was accomplished, Harry wanted them to start rethinking who they were following after today.

Harry ran forward into the fray, his shield reflecting curses back to their owners with frightening strength, the sword directing curses at enemies with a force and accuracy that Harry had never had before. He could see why it was a powerful weapon because it was no ordinary sword but a magical conduit, channeling his magic towards directed targets. Harry ran past dueling classmates and Death Eaters, heading towards the places where he was most needed and spotting people that he cared about fighting for lives.

Lavender and Parvati were trying to take down a group of rough looking men, both looking scared but determined. Their fighting skills weren't fantastic but Harry recognized many of the moves that he had taught in the DA and they were managing to hold their own. In that moment, Harry appreciated fully how much the club had helped not simply as a means of resisting Umbridge but as an actual way to educate the others on defense. Ernie McMillian and Susan Bones were fighting back to back against Fenrir and band of rogue werewolves that were not the most proficient of fighters. Ginny, he was only slightly surprised to note, was fighting like a demon- her passion giving her force behind her spells but her style was sloppy, making her strikes inaccurate and ill-timed. Harry blasted two different attackers away from her with a _reducto_ curse when he saw that she was more fierce than prudent in her fighting. But then, he had learned rather late that was generally her style in most things. He felt a need to stay and try and protect her but he was pulled in too many directions by the advancing fighters, all eager to attack the 'Chosen One' to be able to focus his attention on her alone.

He had had lost track of Ron and Hermione but knew that they had been headed up on his flank and protecting him from the side- just as they had always done for him. He knew that the three of them had the most practice as all of them had used the practice dummies in the Room of Requirement and Harry wished that he had told more the DA to practice on their own as well.

There was confusion as a second wave of attackers approached from the back and Harry felt giddy with excitement. It was the ICW wizards, trained Aurors and Hit wizards from various countries that had pledged their support and must have deployed as quickly as they gotten Daphne's note. They had come to surround them from the back, forcing the Death Eaters to fight on two fronts and military like fighters were terrifying in their precision. Cutting down enemies with a deadly exactitude that the Death Eaters could not have possibly anticipated when attacking a school of children. Harry had the bizarre desire to laugh at the change of fortune- after all this time it had been Harry to lay the trap for Voldemort instead of the other way around.

And suddenly the man that he had been searching out was there, with well over a score of fighters at his back behind the Shield that had made a powerful wizard into an unstoppable force of destruction. Voldemort striking out with his wand, leaving the Shield to defend against attacks while he toppled fighter after fighter with deadly green light. To call it a fight was a bastardization of the word, it was a massacre and suddenly Harry was very unsure of his plan. He had been sure that the Shield would be ineffective at Hogwarts but then Fawley had said that the weapons were only rendered ineffective when faced against the commander of more than one of the objects. Harry took a moment to pat the charmed pocket in his robes that was concealing the Map and hopefully keeping it safe from attack.

Voldemort's red eyes gleamed with hatred and power as he spotted Harry in the crowd, his eyes flicking to the sword in his hand a mocking smile on his reptile features. There was a shiver of disgust at that image but Harry stood defiantly against him, raising the Rowan wand in his right hand even as he held the sword in his left. Voldemort raised the Shield in front of his body, his face still visible and it was a strange sight to see. Voldemort's terrifying visage over the top of the green and silver shield which in spite of its clear age and power was strangely beautiful in design.

Harry raised his wand just as Voldemort raised his own, his lips moving and light building in the tip as Harry shouted out the only thing he could think to say in front of an impenetrable shield " _bombarda_!"

And in that moment, everything around him exploded and Harry could only feel pain, see darkness and hear nothing...

 **A/N: Thanks for the reviews. Sorry again for the wait, this was a hard chapter because there were a lot of loose strands that needed to be covered by a lot of different characters. At first I had vague intention of wrapping things up entirely before the big battle and avoiding a Seventh Year sequel or continuation of this story but logically it just didn't make any sense the way the story progressed and Harry defeating in Voldemort in Year 6 always seems somehow...unnatural. Please review and let me know what you think :)**


	45. The Dark Lord Strikes Back

**Chapter 45: The Dark Lord Strikes Back**

The blood splattered further than Ron expected as his Severing Hex hit its mark on the Death Eater's neck. Jets of sticky liquid squirted outwards, painting the world briefly red in Ron's vision as he took in the fact that he had killed someone for the first time. But the adrenaline poured through his veins and the self-reflection that might have normally occurred after such a momentous event was shoved to the back of his mind as he ducked another curse and bodily shoved Hermione out of the path of a second.

Hermione's wand was moving at a seemingly supernatural rate as she cast curse after hex after jinx at every enemy in their path. She seemingly didn't repeat a single spell, keeping her opponents uneasy and unable to predict what she was doing. Ron cast another Severing Hex and briefly wondered, not for the first time in their six years of friendship, how anyone's brain could work as fast or as well as the witch's in front of him.

Ron slashed through with none of the elegance or creativity that Hermione's style incorporated. He was a strategist but at the moment, when there was no plan to be made, he settled for blunt but brutal efficiency. He had a single minded goal at the moment and there was nothing in this world that was going to keep him from it- he had to get to Harry. He had to protect his best friend so that Harry could do what needed to be done. Ron turned his head away from his classmates that were fighting ruthless killers, kids that only that morning had been worried about whether or not it was too early to start revising for their finals and were now fighting for their lives. He didn't have time to worry about them he couldn't focus on anything other than his goal.

And suddenly he saw the person that he had been looking for, Harry strode forward, confidence and power exuding from him even from the distance across the battlefield. The chaos and noise seemed to dim when one's eye travelled from Harry to his sworn enemy. Ron had never seen Voldemort in person before and for a second he was frozen in horror at the realization that he was seeing the man that his parents had always refused to speak the name of. The horror story that was real and the great specter of his life since he had come to Hogwarts and decided it would just be a brilliant idea to become best friends with the bloody Boy-Who-Lived. Ron breath accelerated but for a moment there seemed to be a strange stillness in the center of the battle. He was not the only person that had been halted by the sight of the Dark Lord and the Chosen One meeting on the battlefield. One could almost believe that Harry and Voldemort were the only people present, everything else merely background noise.

But that did not stop the reality of Ron's best friend going into combat against the most powerful and deadly wizard to exist in the last century. Ron started forward, desperation blotting out logic in his attempt to help Harry before he was caught in the back by an Impediment Jinx, slowing his movements to the point that he tripped and fell, and therefore preventing him from rushing forward to help. He turned automatically onto his back, wand poised to retaliate against his attacker, when he saw not a Death Eater but Malfoy striding towards him, hands raised in surrender but face twisted in determination. "Trust me Weasley you want to stay the hell away from that. Let Potter...be Potter. There's nothing you can do."

"We shouldn't just be standing here!" Ron shouted out scrambling to his feet and glaring that the Slytherin furiously. "We're supposed to be bloody helping!"

"We already have plenty to do!" Malfoy shouted back, slashing his wand against another opponent even as Hermione came up on his other side to help take him down. "What the hell are you supposed to do? You think you can go up against the Dark Lord and survive?"

"I think Harry shouldn't have to do it alone!" Ron shouted, even as he was forced to raise a shield against another stray curse. The numbers were thick and it seemed as though you could not move without running into an enemy or a stray spell. It took several more minutes before either of them were prepared to speak again and from the corner of his eye, Ron saw Harry raise the sword even as he raised his wand in the other. Standing across from him, the sun seemed to gleam off the silver Shield in front of the snake-like man that wielded it as more weapon than defense.

"Potter's the only one that can do it!" Malfoy finally shouted back, panting with exertion but there was also a tone of exasperation mixed with frustration. "Trust me Weasel, no one is more put off by the fact that _Harry Bloody Potter_ is actually going to be the one to save all our asses than me, but if you get in the middle, you're just a distraction and since I've hitched my broom to Potter's wand, I'm going to bloody well make sure that he wins. Even if that means _knocking you the fuck out_!"

Ron snarled, the temptation to strike down Malfoy even in the middle of the battle palpable for him but the decision was taken from his hands when a flash of golden/greenish light flashed outward like a bomb.

The fighters closest to the center froze in shock at the blinding flash and then in the next moment there was an inhuman shriek of pain. Ron felt his heart leap into his throat, before he realized that the scream of agony had not come from Harry but from the man opposite him.

Voldemort was twisting in what appeared to be agony for the space of a long, petrified minute before he suddenly seemed to regain possession of himself. Harry had frozen, a blank expression on his face that resolved in the same instant that Voldemort came back to himself.

Harry straightened, his rather short stature suddenly seeming strangely formidable, though Ron supposed that it had less to do with his size and everything to do with his eyes. After six years of friendship, Ron had thought that he had seen every possible expression on Harry's face. He had seen him happy, he had seen him bored, he had seen him scared and he yes on many occasions he had seen him angry. And Harry angry was always rather scary, but until that moment he had never fully realized that seeing Harry enraged was downright terrifying. The battle closest to the lead fighters had still not resumed and Ron heard a few sharp intakes of breath from those around them. The Slytherin Shield flew from Voldemort's grip as though it had been summoned and landed in front of Harry, who retrieved it with a flick of wand to hover in front of him.

And then, of all possible expressions, Harry smiled. It was terrifying.

"You really should think things through once in a while," Harry taunted. "You can't use the Shield of Slytherin to attack at Hogwarts- especially not its students."

"You think a few tokens can stop me? Stop my power? I am the greatest sorcerer the world has ever known, little _baubles_ will not stop me for long!"

Harry lifted the sword, "Are you sure you want to test that theory? Seems that your own ancestor disagrees...doesn't seem that you were that worthy of it after all."

And suddenly there was flash of red and Harry was raising the Shield against a spell that positively radiated pain and malevolence, even from the distance that Ron was standing. The silver in the Shield seemed to dazzle, shining brightly against the now falling sun so that for a brief moment it seemed to cast a strange halo of power around Harry- and then threw the spell back at its caster with redoubled force.

The man's face twisted with pain combined with rage and scorn. Ron knew in that moment he was looking into the face of true hatred. Raw and unadulterated, it seem to burn him as though it was a physical entity before he was able to tear his eyes away. In that gaze was a promise, one of pain and retribution and with a strange clarity of thought, Ron knew that he was going to remember that glare in his nightmares for a long time to come. Voldemort was going to bring down suffering like the wrath of a fearful god and Ron felt a shiver down his back.

And suddenly, without another word, they were retreating. Voldemort vanished in a swirl of smoke that Ron had never seen from another wizard disapparating. However, after the retreat of the Dark Lord his followers were close on his heels and the sounds of disapparation and the flash of emergency portkeys signaled the end of the battle. Weary students and the reinforcements that had come to help them let out a tired by jubilant cheer as they realized that it was over. They had survived. However, Ron could only think of Voldemort's expression as he looked at Harry to know it was far from the end of the war.

Ron came forward, ready to greet Harry and make their way back to the castle but before he could fully get there, Harry threw his head back and let loose an earth-shattering scream of absolute agony. He fell to his knees, shaking and trembling, sweat pouring from his forehead and his hands were scratching desperately at his forehead so sharply that Ron could already see blood leaking through his fingers as his nails dug into the flesh.

Ron caught his wrists, struggling to hold them back from his head so that the slightly smaller teen wouldn't hurt himself but despite his smaller size, Ron found it difficult to contain Harry. He wasn't sure if the strength came from the possession of magic or it was just his best friend's signature determination but he could not hold on as the boy writhed and twisted in demented agitation. He didn't know what he was going to do to stop him from hurting himself until Malfoy of all people jumped in and helped him drag Harry further to ground, keeping him still by pinning his arms even as Ron sat on his legs. Harry was still writhing in pain, screaming to a point where his throat seemed likely to tear and for several minutes he seemed to have gone completely insane. Ron caught Malfoy's eyes and saw that the Slytherin was terrified by what he was seeing and Ron realized that the blond had never seen Harry in such a state. But then-neither had he. He had seen Harry suffer from his scar but nothing like this had ever happened before.

"What the bloody hell is going on?"

"V-V-Voldemort is...he attacks Harry's scar."

"What do we do?"

Ron blinked, feeling rather shocked by the question, though he supposed it made it sense. Ron shook his head and tried to sound more nonchalant than he really felt at the moment at seeing his best friend in such a state. "Nothing for it for at the moment but to wait for him to pull out of it."

Malfoy's pale features looked ashen and his muscles seemed to stiffen slightly even as he continued to pin Harry down to the ground. After another minute or so Harry arched his back high off the ground, letting out one last wail of pain before falling limply to the ground, unconscious.

It was only after he was still that he noticed Hermione hovering by his shoulder looking anxiously at Harry. "Is he alright?"

Ron nodded shakily, "I reckon so. Not sure what happened, I thought they had gone..."

Hermione nodded, her face white and he suddenly noticed how overly large her eyes seemed at the moment. "They're gone... _leaving_ I guess is better to say I can still hear some of them in the castle..."

Ron looked back and grimaced, the front facade of the ancient building was crumbled and broken. The windows that peered into the Great Hall were shattered and he knew there would be only more damage once they got inside. "Do you reckon we should move him to the hospital wing or wait till we know they're gone?"

"Wait," Malfoy answered even as a few more of their current classmates moved towards them, Greengrass and Nott in the front followed by a limping and rather disheveled Tracy Davis. "If there are any more Death Eaters in there and they see an unconscious Potter then it's going to turn into open season."

Ron scowled, not enjoying this sudden and completely unexpected camaraderie that he and Malfoy seemed to have struck up out of nowhere but when Hermione shook her head, he knew she was warning him not to argue and to go along with what the Slytherin said. He let out a ragged breath, releasing some of the tension from the battle that was still coiling his muscles. It was a feeling he had experienced before, the strange release of tension and anxiety that came after a near death experience that was at once euphoric and exhausting. He had felt it before but he did not think that anyone could ever grow accustomed to such a feeling. However, he seemed to be doing better than some of the others, who were alternately fidgeting with anxiety or else looking dazed with shock.

"You alright Davis?" Ron heard himself asking before he had time to think about the fact that he had never before spoken to the Slytherin girl.

She looked up at him with rather bemused eyes, "oh just living the Gryffindor dream," she replied back with kind of dry cheek that seemed to be an almost automatic response, given the fact that she still looked rather dazed. "So sad now that I've been missing all the fun you and your mates have been having every year. Next time though I much rather just take regular exams in peace."

"No worries there," Ron shot back, "we even did it all a bit early this year so it doesn't mess with Hermione's exam schedule...though I imagine that this clean-up will really cut into revision time, what do you reckon, new study timetable?"

Greengrass and Davis blinked as Hermione swatted his shoulder before both of them started laughing rather nervously, as though they half thought that if they dared to laugh after such a battle then they were triggering some sort of curse.

It wasn't until they saw a group of people emerge from the castle looking for the injured that they knew that it was safe to go back. Hermione flicked her wand and Harry levitated upwards, reminding Ron of the time that Sirius had done the same to Snape in their Third Year, though it was clear that Hermione was taking a great deal more care with her charge than Sirius had done. Ron took a deep breath as he realized there was yet another challenge awaiting him- seeing who had survived the battle and hoping that his family was safe.

HPHPHPHP

Ron staggered into the Hospital Wing, exhaustion weighing him down like a physical weight. He was still slightly astonished to find himself uninjured after the chaos and violence of the battle but the long walk back to the castle had made him nearly sick with anxiety as all the pushed aside worries for his family, that had seemed so abstract while he had been fighting, suddenly seemed to crash down around him. There were nine of them and with the Ministry on board there was no guarantee that even Percy had stayed away from the fighting. The chances of them all making it out unscathed seemed slim. And that wasn't even counting his classmates. He had caught sight of Lavender earlier and had wanted to stay by her side but had been distracted by the task he had already set himself of guarding Harry's side while he challenged Voldemort.

He was anxious to see Lavender, to have her make some sort of joke and lighten the mood as she was known to do even in the most serious of situations. He had gotten together with her for a lot of the wrong reasons and looking back he did not think he had treated her very well in the beginning but as time had worn on, she had surprised him. She was different from his other friends and challenged him in ways he hadn't expected to need challenging in. He had grown to respect her and the way she saw the world and felt guilty for assuming that simply because she had certain shallow interests, she was not a person of substance. He didn't think that he loved her, not really, but he had grown to care about her in a way that he had not expected when they had first started dating when he had been far more interested in snogging than talking.

But he didn't find Lavender or really anyone at first. Ron entered the infirmary to an entirely new kind of chaos. People were running in and out, some yelling for help, other screaming out in pain as several people tried their best help without running into each other or forgetting to check on the patients that were too weak even to cry out.

Pomfrey was running the ward as though she was the true commander of the war. She had assembled a team of assistants and workers from a few of the students that Ron recognized as top of the Seventh and Sixth Years and was directing them back and forth even as her wand twisted and turned through a variety of familiar patterns.

She had apparently also called in reinforcements of her own as the floo heralded the arrival of extra Healers and Medi-wizards. Hermione deposited Harry onto an empty bed where he was almost instantly inspected by a rather harried looking Healer that seemed overwhelmed but determined to give priority to the Chosen One. Ron realized that now her task had been complete and there was nothing to distract her from her own emotions, Hermione had started to shake slightly beside him, apparently feeling the full weight of the day's events for the first time. A surge of protective warmth struck him at the way she cared for others before her own well-being and without real conscious thought of the action he wrapped his arm around her. "It's alright...we made it and Harry is going to be fine," he whispered to her because he could think of nothing else to say. Not with the crowded hospital wing, full of their classmates and family. He had never been very good at dealing with other people's emotions but he felt that if his relationship with Lavender had given anything it was a better ability to express himself and care for those around him without reservation.

"Ron!" his mother was on him in a flash, squeezing him tightly in a hug that seemed to at once to assure her that he was alive and promptly kill him from asphyxiation.

"I'm alright Mum, I'm fine," he assured her and he noticed that his voice was calmer, gentler than it had ever been with her. In the past he would have been annoyed with her, embarrassed by her fussing at him in public, but now he only felt compelled to assure that he was alright.

She was crying but was struggling to sound as calm as possible as she told him, "It's Bill, Ron, Bill's...his spine was crushed by a dark curse and they're...they can't know if he'll recover fully...he might not walk again!" Ron felt his breath catch at this news. Bill- who he had admired and looked up to his entire life might be permanently and irrevocably damaged. Bill had been the one that had helped teach him how to ride a broomstick and used to purposefully lose footraces to him when he was trying to get Ron to go back into the house when he had been a kid. It seemed utterly inconceivable to him. Ron swallowed and numbly patted her on the back, unsure what he could possibly say in the face of such devastating news. Bill was a cursebreaker by trade, he had told Ron more than once that he hated the idea of being trapped behind a desk. His transfer back to Britain had always been meant to be temporary, and he had gotten the agreement that he would work primarily within the vaults themselves, deep in the underground cave where he could still be active. How would he remain active now?

His mother was sobbing, clinging to him as though she was a small child and Ron realized through a dull haze of shock as he tried to offer rather clumsy comfort that his mother's head now fit neatly under his chin, a height he had never quite achieved with her in the past. It seemed such a strange thing to note, that after fighting for his life and the lives of his friends in an actual battle; that the fact that he had grown taller than his mother seemed to be the thing that drove home the reality that his childhood truly was at an end. Just another thing that would be different from this moment on with no chance of going back in time. Hermione had often told him he was rather slow to notice the obvious things.

Ginny came in supporting a bleeding but conscious and seemingly stable Luna with her arm around the Ravenclaw's waist. After depositing her on the bed she turned to join their parents and Ron, embracing her father and letting tears run down her cheeks. Ron couldn't really remember the last time he had seen Ginny actually cry, he couldn't even remember her shedding actual tears over Harry when they had broken up, or if she had, she had not allowed anyone to see her so vulnerable. Now she seemed wholly unconcerned with who looked at her as she fell into her mother's arms, wanting her own comfort even as she tried to offer the same in the turn.

The lists of the injured and dead were long and Ron kept hearing an increasingly familiar wail of pain and grief as more and more friends and family members were informed of their loved ones' fate. The Healers were still working on Bill, trying to minimize as much damage as possible. George had suffered a deep cut to his shoulder and Fred had a head wound that was currently keeping him unusually quiet, the Healers had diagnosed concussion and insisted that he rest the muggle way before they would consider administering a potion the next day if his symptoms didn't clear.

Harry had been checked over and declared physically fit but the Healers were confused and unsure what to make of his persistent unconscious state. Hermione had tried to explain, with as little detail as possible to a group of strangers, that Harry was affected by 'You-Know-Who' but the two different Healers that were available to examine him were unable to offer them any answers. Ron shook his head wryly, Harry had always insisted that the Healers wouldn't be able to help him and the git always seemed to be right at the most inconvenient of times.

Ron sat with his family and Hermione around Fred's sickbed, George sat closest to his head, his shoulder in bandages and his own face pale, as they awaited news on Bill's condition. The adrenaline had finally passed and a kind of numb disbelief was settling over him. He kept thinking that he should be doing more- helping the Healers or trying to clean up the castle or even talking to his classmates and finding out who else had been hurt, but he found himself unable to move. This was _Hogwarts_. His school that, as McGonagall was fond of reminding them all, had a tradition that stretched back a thousand years and yet the corridor had been smashed and broken. The portraits he had passed on the way into the infirmary were in tatters, the ghosts strangely quiet. This had been his home for six years in spite of all of the adventures and trouble that he had found here in the past, he had always had this illusion of safety in the castle. That illusion was now as shattered as the windows to the Great Hall. Dumbledore was dead. Bill might never walk again. And for the first time in over a decade Ron wanted nothing more than to crawl into his mother's lap and have her stroke his hair as she had done when he had been a young boy and come to her after he had nightmare or one of the twins had teased him until he had cried.

Ron wasn't sure how much time passed, it probably hadn't been as long as it felt, but he was shaken harshly from his grief-filled stupor as Parvati fell into his lap with hysterical tears, speaking incoherently into his chest.

Hermione looked at him with horror in her expression but Ron's mind couldn't fathom why Parvati would be there. Why would she seek him out of all people? "Parvati...calm down, calm down, what's happened? Where's..."

And suddenly his brain caught up with the one reason why Parvati would seek him out without Lavender at time like this. "Severing Curse...got her in the chest...I thought she would be alright, I didn't think it was that deep and she was _talking!_ She said that it _hurt!_ I-I always thought that was supposed to be a good sign! That as long as you were feeling pain you weren't...that you couldn't..."

"She's dead?" he heard himself ask weakly but his voice sounded different to his ears. He didn't recognize the tone or emotion that he was feeling. This wasn't anger or surprise or even grief...this was incomprehension was the closest he could come to describing it but it still seemed inadequate.

Parvati nodded, fresh tears running freely down her face, her breath coming in short, gasping spurts. His arms raised in a kind of automatic fashion to comfort her but the gesture seemed foreign and it occurred to him that before his relationship with Lavender he would have been too gormless and insensitive to even recognize that he should do it. Fred and George were both looking at him with a horror that for once hadn't been caused by a prank that had gone wrong. Uncharacteristic sympathy filling their expressions as he vaguely heard Hermione quietly explaining to his family that he and Lavender had been dating for several months.

His mother's tears renewed and she made a motion to come forward to comfort him but Ron's father held her back for the moment, allowing Ron a moment to process what had happened and make the first move. Part of him was grateful for the action as it showed that his father respected the fact that Ron was an adult, but in that moment Ron had never wanted the acknowledgement of his own independence less. He wanted to go back- back to when his mother had all the answers and he didn't have to decide or do anything. When she could tell him that everything would be alright and he would believe her.

The night dragged on and slowly the cries and distress of the hospital wing died down. The patients that had been most critical were stabilized as much as possible, Bill included for the time being. They wouldn't know the full extent of his injuries or the likelihood of recovery for some time but they had contacted Fleur, who had been out of the country at the time and told her what had happened. Ron noted dully that his mother had been too upset at the time to be cold towards the quarter veela as she normally was and wondered if the other woman had noticed the change in demeanor at all. For his part though, Ron had been quiet after learning the news about Lavender even after Hermione and Ginny had both tried to get him to talk. A few of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws had come into the ward and Ernie had come straight towards Ron and wrapped him in a hug after he learned about the death of the Gryffindor. If you were to ask him later, Ron would have been surprised to realize that it wasn't until that moment that he actually allowed himself to cry.

Eventually people left to different rooms so that they could get some sleep or else grieve in private. Hermione seemed unable to sit still and instead was trying to help Madame Pomfrey after many of her assistants had all but collapsed from exhaustion. Ron vaguely noticed the Slytherins whispering to one another, seeming agitated about something but he couldn't care about it at the moment and when, in the early hours of Monday morning, Ernie quietly asked if Ron wanted to leave so that he could get some rest. he was happy to follow anyone's suggestion, glad not to have think any longer.

HPHPHP

Lucius Malfoy knew every inch of Malfoy Manor. He had grown up there and as a young boy he had liked to explore the place's secrets, determined to find them all, hoping that one day he would be able to show something new to his father, to be able to prove to him that he had not been 'wasting his time'. Father had always disapproved of him doing anything as frivolous and unstructured as 'exploring' as a child.

As an adult he had learned that he had set himself an impossible task because the master of the house was privy to information regarding the structure of the house that no one else could possibly know. Malfoy Manor had been constructed and reconstructed for centuries with the intentions of keeping the family secrets, at times even from other family members. When he became the head of the family after his father's death, Lucius had learned all of the secrets the place held. He knew every alcove, every passageway, and every concealed and warded rom. And – though he would never admit to their existence- every flaw of the Malfoy ancestral home, few and far between they might be. And it was with this knowledge that Lucius Malfoy was currently a hiding fugitive in his own home.

He could not return to the Dark Lord's side. Not after the spectacular loss they had suffered in the battle and the knowledge that the man had just lost the Shield of his forefathers. Cries of pain and fear could be heard from where he privately spied on the locked drawing room. The Dark Lord was in a towering rage and was currently taking it out on his remaining faithful followers. Lucius would not go back only to be struck down for a failure that was not of his making. Truth be told, if he had been at fault he would have blamed some else anyway so it came to the same thing. Lucius had decided long ago that he would never be a casualty in a war- any war. He would profit or at the very least he would survive, but he would not cast his own life aside for other wizards' gain.

Lucius had once believed whole heartedly in the doctrine that Lord Voldemort had been trying to force onto the world. He had always believed that wizards were superior to muggles and should be treated as such. Rather than coddled and protected while wizards were forced into secrecy, muggles should be put in their proper place- as subservient in every way to wizards. Magical Creatures should be used for what they could offer the magical community and then caged, the idea that they needed to be respected and even protected was absurd and degrading to the standing his blood should command. Following the Dark Lord had not merely been a means to an end, it had been the closest he had ever seen their world come to achieving the vision he had always wanted for it.

However, Lucius had always survived through his pragmatism, not idealism. Under veritaserum he would have been forced to confess that he would like to see the Dark Lord win the war- but only if Lucius was at the man's right hand side and was as handsomely rewarded as he deserved. Without the benefits the man had once sworn to provide him and with the increasing certainty that he would never receive the kind of respect and compensation he had anticipated when he had taken the mark, it had been time to change sides.

To change sides to _Harry Bloody Potter_.

He could not say it had been an enticing prospect. Potter was an idealist and muggle sympathizer. He had no respect or even use for Pureblood tradition and he courted the company of creatures that Lucius would sooner put down than engage in a civil conversation with. He was reckless and overly sympathetic. He was morally incorruptible and expected others to behave in the same manner. He was very last person Lucius would have wanted to shape and guide their world.

But the fact remained- the boy had bloody done it. He had managed to defend the castle and had had taken possession of the Shield. What was more, Lucius had learned, the boy had even been the one that had _truly_ orchestrated Dumbledore's murder. Lucius didn't know whether to laugh or cry. His son, his brilliant, wonderful son, had been right with the suggestion that he come to him with weeks earlier, the suggestion to change sides and work with the Gryffindor who would protect those that followed him until his dying breath. Lucius had been skeptical at best. It was true there was something decidedly strange about the boy when it came to his connection to the Dark Lord, but aside from the fact that Potter seemed to get himself out of sticky situations, how was he qualified to lead? The boy was a Half-Blood. He had been raised by muggles and if all of the recent reports were to be believed, the very worst of an already sad race. Muggles that had apparently managed to beat and humiliate him, which proved the boy's weakness. Both Severus and Draco had told him many times that aside from an affinity for flying and the admittedly unique talent of Parseltongue the boy was upsettingly _average_. He wasn't particularly intelligent and displayed no extraordinary magical talent. Lucius may have despised Dumbledore but at least there had been no denying the fact that the man was powerful and deserved the station he had achieved. Potter had gotten lucky with a bit of fluke lucky as an infant and had been cashing in on it ever since.

But Draco's opinion of the other boy had changed during the course of the year. He had explained how he had witnessed the short duel between the boy and Dark Lord and the fact that the Potter had not only survived but had _shattered the borrowed wand in the man's hands_ \- a feat that Lucius had never heard of another wizard accomplishing. Draco had further told him how Potter had been gaining respect and allies within Slytherin House even while maintaining his standing with the other Houses- not a simple matter in any regard. He had heard himself about the impressive deal that Potter had managed to strike between the Ministry and the Dark Creatures, the biggest winner of all seeming to be Potter. That was a kind of leader that Lucius could get behind. And so he had given his blessing to Draco to do what needed to be done.

And now he was hiding in a concealed room off of the east parlor, a room that no one that did not have Malfoy Blood could enter but still allowed him to see any other room in the manor. He was completely safe within the confines of the room but there was also no means of contacting the outside world through any known magical means. The Dark Lord had already taken control of his home and Lucius knew that he would never be able to force the man out. But Lucius had learned early that information was the most powerful weapon that he could have and he intended to use his time in seclusion wisely.

"Bellatrix you swore to me you were my most faithful and devoted servant, is that not true?" the Dark Lord was hissing to a distressed Bellatrix. The woman had broken away after being captured and subdued by Potter and friends. Even the fact that she had managed to kill about a dozen fighters on her way out had not satisfied her master after hearing about her initial failure.

"My Lord, I _am_ your most faithful, your most _devoted and trusted_! It was I that exposed the treachery that was going on before you! It was **I** that has set the trap that they will soon walk into when they are least prepared! I never trusted him, Master, I had warned you-"

Lucius shook his head at the woman's blatant stupidity. Her insanity and desperation lent no censure to her words at any time and she was so desperate to prove her loyalty that she had just committed the unforgivable sin of pointing out a time when someone (anyone) that wasn't the Dark Lord was right about something. The Cruciatus she received was expected and rather deserved.

"I will handle the traitor in due time," The Dark Lord hissed angrily. "I trust that your incompetent mistakes of the past will rectified and there is no chance of another escape?" The question was deceptively soft when spoken, Lucius knew full well the suffering that had taken place after Potter had managed to escape the dungeons right under the noses of the Death Eaters- Bellatrix among them.

"It is time that we took a different approach with Potter. For too long I have allowed that boy to run around with the arrogant assumption that he has the right to challenge and defy me. Potter was never worthy of being my true adversary but now that the old fool is dead at last...I believe it time to focus our full and complete efforts on destroying Potter. Destroying his reputation, his friends, his life.

"Avery! I believe that you had a task to perform?"

A nervous, reedy looking man stepped forward, shaking with a combination of terror and pain from the last curse he had suffered. "Yes my Lord, it is set, just as we discussed. The Ministry officials that we need are all under control. I had not realized..."

"I underestimated Potter," Voldemort hissed quietly and even when admitting fault the man still sounded intimidating and arrogant. "I had not counted on him reaching out for help so quickly and had thought that we would be attacking Hogwarts when it was at its most vulnerable. But Potter has played his hand and now...his faithful little allies will soon learn what it means to be on the wrong side of a war. I believe that we should start with Potter's little _pets_. The vampires and werewolves will pay for their disloyalty and when they turn on Potter, the Wizarding World will see quickly why placing so much trust in dark creatures without properly controlling them first is a dangerous idea. Potter is going to die but I am no longer satisfied with simply killing him. I will break Harry Potter. I will have him begging at my feet for the world to see before I slaughter him as the fools that trusted in him- those that I have still allowed to live that long- watch."

The Death Eaters were nodding, morale building with each word of vengeance spoken against the boy that had defeated and humiliated them. Such an insult could not be allowed to stand and Lucius knew that the people standing in front of their master would go to any lengths to satisfy their need for revenge.

"From this moment on the rules of engagement will change. We have become too predictable. Too slow to change tactics, but I will not allow this any longer. Potter best enjoy his next birthday- I swear it will be his last!"

HPHPHPHP

Harry moaned quietly and regretted even expending that much energy or making that much noise. His head felt as though it was splitting along the seams. "Potter?" Harry grimaced and moaned again, flinching away from whomever had been speaking next to him.

He felt a hand on the back of his neck and he wanted to pull away but it was too hard. He struggled weakly and received a sharp, "drink this, you'll feel better in a minute," from a voice that didn't sound as close as the hands on his neck should have indicated.

He recognized the voice but...it couldn't be...why would he of all people...oh that's right. He and Malfoy had made some sort of devil's bargain and two of them were allies now.

He nodded and winced both at the pain and his own stupidity, nodding was ridiculously painful. A vial was brought to his lips and he swallowed the rather sickly sweet taste.

Moments later the pain receded enough for Harry to open his eyes and the sight that greeted him made him feel as though whatever had happened to his head had addled his brain.

"Is this is some sort of strange alternate reality where I got sorted into Slytherin and now I'm stuck with the two of you as friends?" he muttered.

Malfoy snorted, "you wish we were friends, Potter. You're welcome for the pain potion by the way, next time you get yourself in some sort of Gryffindor calamity we'll just leave you to it then."

"Alternate reality?" Daphne asked with her brow wrinkled, "I've never heard of that kind of magic."

"More like muggle science fiction," Harry answered with a groan as struggled to sit up. "And sorry. I do appreciate the potion, I just wasn't really expecting the two of you here. Where are Ron and Hermione?"

Daphne winced but Malfoy shook his head and muttered, "Of course, can't be bloody separated from each other." He cleared his throat and explained, "Weasley left the morning after the battle, but he's been checking in to see you and his brother. One of the older ones was hurt I think, but before you ask," he added as Harry opened his mouth prepared to ask after the Weasleys, "I don't know any details. Merlin knows keeping track of the whole lot of the Weasleys would be a full time job. But last I saw Ron he was with Macmillian," Malfoy gave a rather awkward pause even as Daphne looked down with a flush to her face. "He was pretty upset, Brown- er Lavender Brown," he corrected more respectfully than the rest of his speech, "died in the battle. Macmillian's been keeping an eye on him."

Harry's eyes widened and he swore under his breath. This had been his idea, his trap for Voldemort and now a 17 year girl, his best friend's girlfriend, was dead.

"This wasn't your fault Harry. You were brilliant," Daphne said fiercely, her voice suddenly more passionate than he could remember hearing it. "You did it, you got the Shield away from Him. And reports have been pouring in, your plan worked! The vampires and werewolves liberated the towns that were being controlled by Death Eaters. This was a victory."

Harry blinked, unsure how to feel when such good news came on heels of such tragic loss.

He settled for clearing his throat, "and Hermione? You said that Ernie and Ron went off together, did she go as well?"

Draco scowled, seeming irritated and impatient with Harry's questions but Daphne seemed to be almost strangely patient with him at the moment. "She's with Professor McGonagall in her office, well her new office as the Headmistress that is. The Ministry's been round, trying to take control, and since you weren't really up for any important meetings I suppose Granger thought she would try and get as much information as possible."

Harry nodded, relieved that someone he trusted would be there but slightly surprised that they had allowed a student other than himself to be present. Though he supposed that Hermione was technically 17, an adult in their world, and McGonagall would certainly vouch her maturity and knowledge. Honestly he felt Hermione was better suited to read the suit dynamics in the room much better than he ever was, he had always felt as though he was two steps behind in all of those Ministry and International meetings and simply soldiered on to look as competent as possible. Hermione, on the other hand, had more patience for double speak and found it almost a challenge to decipher each person's key motivations for doing anything. He had a feeling that someday Hermione was going to take the Ministry by storm and the Wizarding World might never be the same again.

"How long was I out for?" He asked, it was rather quiet in the Infirmary at the moment and he couldn't imagine it would have been that way if he had only been unconscious for a few hours. It also sounded as though quiet a lot had happened since he had been there.

"About a day and a half. It's Tuesday, late morning now. They were talking about moving you St. Mungo's if didn't wake up in the next," Malfoy glanced down at his watch, "14 hours or so."

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. He remembered, rather hazily but remembered, the confrontation between himself and Voldemort. The way their spells had clashed, the fact that he had been right about the Shield coming to him if Voldemort were to use it on Hogwarts grounds. And then the mind-splitting pain of Voldemort' mental attack. It had been as bad as it had been during the Department of Mysteries- the terrible feeling of total submission that came with being forcibly possessed. The absolute agony mixed with terrifying helplessness. But even then he had not been unconscious for so long.

He cleared his throat and tried to look more nonchalant about the situation than he felt in front of Malfoy. Allies they might be, but they were hardly friends and he wasn't about to show the blond that he was feeling vulnerable and rather disconcerted about being so affected by Voldemort's latest attack on his mind. It certainly seemed to him that the connection was getting worse over time. "Right, well much as I appreciate the, er...bedside vigil you were maintaining, why _are_ the two of you here?"

Daphne gave a nervous shift and looked down, a faint blush tinging her cheeks but it was Malfoy that answered. "About time you started asking the right questions, I was starting to get worried you about to ask after the whereabouts of your entire fan club and then we'd be here all night," he groused. Harry gave him an unimpressed look but didn't bother to argue. He suspected sarcasm and distain were pretty much established preconditions to working with Malfoy on a consistent basis.

At any rate, Malfoy's next words blocked out any annoyance he might have felt for the Slytherin from his mind. "Snape's gone."

"What?" Harry asked, startled. "He's dead?"

Malfoy shook his head, biting his lip anxiously, Harry didn't think he had ever seen the Slytherin look so disconcerted and shaken before. "No...or I don't think so, not yet at least. After we took out the Death Eaters in Dumbledore's office, Snape's...true loyalties were obvious," Draco said it as though the revelation of Snape's true loyalties still had him slightly reeling. Harry knew that to Malfoy and perhaps most of the students, or at least the Slytherin students, it had always seemed obvious that the man's 'true loyalty' had been to the Dark Lord. To learn otherwise must have come as quite the shock.

"He was fighting, fighting for us I mean, but... I don't know, I wasn't there so I didn't see, but I heard afterwards that he killed like...a lot of them," he swallowed. "He's an excellent dueler, he really should have been Defense teacher all this time...but there were too many and they overwhelmed him. Once the order came through for the Death Eaters to retreat, instead of killing him, they grabbed him and apparated out. The werewolf, Lupin that is, he saw it and he was the one that told me what happened."

Harry felt as though he had missed a stair going down. Snape was kidnapped, captured and held prisoner and Harry more than most people could appreciate what that truly meant. The loneliness that seemed almost as bad as the fear; the pain and hunger that were a constant drain on you until you started to worry it would never end, or if it did end...it would mean the end of you. It was a terrible place to be. And that was assuming that Snape was not already dead already.

"Do they have any idea where he might be?" he asked.

Malfoy shook his head but paused after a moment, "the best guess is my h- my family's Manor," he corrected himself, seeming to want to distance himself from claiming ownership over the dungeons that would most likely be keeping their professor. "I've been waiting to hear from my dad but...he hasn't contacted me and I don't know what's happened..." Malfoy let out a shaky breath, obviously trying to keep hold of fraying nerves.

"If there's one thing I know about your dad, he's a survivor," Harry said quietly, "If he survived the battle, I reckon he's gotten himself somewhere safe."

Malfoy nodded, looking as though he was trying to appear more confident than he probably felt at the moment. "He knew that I was changing sides and the last message I got to him was that I was going after Dumbledore on your orders," Malfoy was pale as he said it and his wand hand twitched subtly.

"I didn't get a chance to tell you before but what you did took a lot of guts Malfoy. I don't know if I could have done it. I know Ron or Hermione or Neville couldn't have. I know that you didn't want to, but I promise you that Dumbledore would have understood."

Malfoy swallowed and nodded tightly, "he did understand. He knew...he knew what I was going to do. And Snape did as well, I think he was about to do it himself before I got there. I think he had the same plan as you."

The idea of he and Snape coming up with the same plans seemed so strange that Harry decided not to allow himself to think on it for the moment. Things had certainly changed a lot from last summer when the idea of staying with Snape for a few weeks had seemed little better than torture. Somehow things had evolved to a point where he could not only support Snape's ideas but they were linked to his own. Harry wasn't sure who had influenced who, or if they had influenced each other but as strange as the concept still seemed to him, he couldn't say that he regretted any decisions that he had made.

"Do they have a plan to get him back?" Harry asked, barely daring to hope.

Malfoy blinked and in the next second his shoulders sagged slightly, "I knew telling you was the right thing, you're the first person that even suggested it. I asked, but everyone I've spoken to has either put me off or flat out told me it would be a suicide mission."

Harry frowned, hating to hear that the people that he was fighting with were so willing to abandon one of their own. They were supposed to be better than that. "Is there any way of finding out if someone is inside the wards of your manor?"

Draco shook his head, "I would have to be considered the master of the house and even then I would either have to be inside the wards myself or have set up an object to warn me about it beforehand. I think my father is actually hiding himself somewhere in the house. I know there are a few warded rooms that make magical travel or even communication impossible but he would still maintain the safety of the house but I don't know much else about them. Its tradition not to learn anything about them until the Heir is of age and event then the full secrets aren't revealed until the will is read for the last Malfoy in charge of the family. Which means that there's no way of finding out if Snape is there or not, or even if my father is there for that matter, and even if we did find out we still couldn't talk to him."

Harry nodded, taking in this information and trying to think of what to do next. "How do we break in?"

Malfoy rolled his eyes, "honestly Potter, you really do your muggle upbringing justice sometimes. You can't just _break_ into the manor. There's a reason why the Dark Lord chose my family home above any of his other followers. That place hasn't been breached in over four centuries. The fastest way would be to break through the wards but my ancestors have been adding to them for generations, with our reputation it was usually rather important to concern ourselves with safety. Became a bit of a family obsession really, others might call it paranoia."

Harry raised an eyebrow, it was the closest thing Malfoy had ever come to a disparaging remark about himself or his family. "However," the Slytherin continued, "it would take a full frontal assault to take down the wards and at the moment we don't know for certain that Snape is even there and if he isn't, we are throwing up a huge red flag for another battle that I don't think we're ready for at the moment."

Harry frowned again as he hesitated to voice the rather callous observation he had in mind. In the end though his pragmatism for once outweighed his compassion. "I think that we're in a bit better condition for another fight than Voldemort and the Death Eaters are at the moment."

Malfoy shook his head looking agitated, "don't underestimate the Dark Lord's ability to bounce back Potter, and this time we'll be fighting on his home turf. He's essentially taken over all but the most basic and essential control of the manor. My father still maintains a few key advantages but when up against the power of the Dark Lord it won't be enough."

"Even with all those defenses your ancestors created?"

This time even Daphne shook her head in exasperation as both Slytherins looked at him as though he had just made the most ridiculous statement they had ever heard. "Just how do you think wards actually work, Potter? They aren't infallible and they certainly aren't impenetrable," Malfoy scoffed.

"This is what happens when you take Divination instead of Ancient Runes-"

"Or spend your life living in the muggle world where they think little bits of metal in a door is enough to stop anyone from coming in. Honestly if that was what he considered an impenetrable defense before, no wonder he's confused."

"Enough Draco, you're not helping anything," Daphne snapped. She turned back to Harry as she explained in a voice of forced calm, "the Dark Lord entered as an invited guest. He didn't force his way in, so there was no initial breech. That's where most of the power of protective enchantments lie- in keeping someone out entirely. Once someone get in, it's very hard to use the wards to force them out. Especially with the amount of time the Dark Lord has already spent there and the fact that even though he's not a Malfoy nor the owner of the house, he is still the most magically powerful being in the manor, and power always counts for a lot when it comes to making another wizard do anything."

Harry nodded again using considerable effort to hold back a yawn. The conversation was important he was trying to devote his full attention to coming up with a viable plan to save Snape but he was still fatigued from whatever Voldemort had done to him.

Daphne shot him a sympathetic glance as she noticed what must have been his strained expression. "Alright," Harry sighed, "we'll have to figure something out. If Voldemort hasn't killed Snape yet then he wants information from him. Snape's managed to spy on him for years and get away with it so angry as Voldemort is, he's also curious," he was thinking out loud. He had spent enough time in Voldemort's mind to know a bit of how the man thought. He knew that man had a vicious temper and hated failure but the thing that he couldn't stand above anything else was the feeling that he didn't know something. Voldemort considered himself to be the most powerful and most knowledgeable sorcerer in the world. It had galled him that Dumbledore had been at least as powerful if not more so than him but the man had always comforted himself with the idea that Dumbledore had once been his teacher. Snape was less than half the man's age. He never should have been able to fool him for as long as he did.

"The Dark Lord knows how to get information out of people," Daphne warned quietly as Malfoy nodded beside her.

Harry nodded but he was distracted as he tried to picture what Voldemort would do first. He had broken Bertha Jonkins before the start of his Fourth Year just to find out what she might know and had wound up tearing through a memory charm. But Snape's defenses were much greater and the man would know how to protect anything vital from the man for a much longer period of time. Harry wasn't sure if anyone was a better Occlumens than the Potions Master and he wasn't even sure if it was possible to tear down such solid shields through brute force alone and still be able to guarantee that the information the person was trying to protect hadn't been tampered with by the supposed victim.

"It's going to take time. If he wants to get information from Snape, Voldemort will have to go slowly. And as much as he wants the information from Snape, he has other problems to worry about first. You said that the vampires and werewolves were successful, that means he's lost his base and he'll have to work to recover that as quickly as possible."

Malfoy was nodding. "That's true. He'll keep Snape isolated. Snape is strong but everyone's mental defenses have weaknesses and the Dark Lord will know how to exploit them."

"So we wait, for now. Snape is strong, he'll be able to hold out, but we can't risk doing this wrong. We need to make sure that whatever we do, works the first time."

Malfoy nodded but he looked unhappy with the situation. Harry couldn't blame him, he hated inaction and the idea of waiting while someone that he knew...and as much as he once thought he would never say this...cared about, was in danger was driving him mad. But he had learned a few things from Snape and even Dumbledore this past year and one of things was the value of caution and planning when necessary.

He only hoped that what he was calling caution at the moment wasn't merely excuses and hesitation because if he waited too long, it was Snape that would pay the price.

Malfoy left rather quickly after that, satisfied that Harry was not going to abandon the Slytherin Head of House as most people seemed willing to do but Daphne edged closer, looking uncharacteristically unsure of herself. Harry looked at the normally self-assured girl with concern. "Are you alright Daphne? I know you've probably never seen anything like that battle..." He wasn't sure what to say. Unlike the rest of his classmates, Harry was not a novice at dangerous and even deadly situations. He had seen someone murdered at the age 14 and for the past two years, he had lived with an almost constant fear of the war and its consequences. The time of shock had passed him.

Daphne smiled weakly at him. "Better than I thought I would be after everything that happened. I never thought...it was better and worse than I ever expected it to be. It was more terrible but it..." she shook her head.

"The world still goes on," Harry said quietly and her head shot up in surprise. He smiled sadly at her. "It's a common saying isn't it? 'I couldn't survive if...' or 'I've never be able to live with myself...'. People say things like that all time because we can't really picture the world any different than we've always known it. And then something happens and its awful and it feels like the world is ending...and then the next day you're still there and its alright. And sometimes that's the worst part of it."

Daphne's lips were slightly parted and a single tear ran down her cheek. "Y-yes, that's the problem. So many people died, dozens of them when you count both sides and..."

"And you know some of the people from the other side," Harry supplied gently.

Daphne nodded. "My family...we've always been neutral. We have friends with a lot of the Pureblood families a few of them..." she took a deep breath, "but it wasn't just the adults, _4 students died_ and yesterday I was talking to Tracy and she said something funny and I laughed and...that's awful, isn't it?" she asked looking incredibly guilty.

Harry shook his head, "no. You're alive Daphne, part of being alive is enjoying your life and laughing when something is funny. Of course you're going to miss the people that died, and we're all going to mourn them, but if I died I wouldn't want people to stop living their own lives and doubt they want you to either. As long as you remember how lucky you are every time you laugh or get to do something you enjoy, I don't think you're hurting or disrespecting anyone. I think you're celebrating what they were willing to die for, because that's what the war is really about Daphne. It's not about beating Voldemort, it about proving that your life matters and you should be free to live it the way you want with the people that you love."

Daphne grabbed his face and pulled him forward into a deep and passionate kiss. Harry was so surprised that for a moment he didn't react but after a second instinct kicked in and his hands came up to pulled her down onto his hospital bed. She pulled back after a second, her face slightly flushed and her breath a little quicker.

Harry swallowed and forced himself to control his own breathing as blood pounded in his veins. "Well that's one way of enjoying life I suppose."

Daphne scoff was more of a genuine laugh and hit him on the shoulder, her face flushing even brighter than before. "I've wanted to do that for a long time...especially right before the battle started but I couldn't bring myself to act so impulsively but...if I want to enjoy my life, I think I would really like to spend a lot more time with you."

Harry felt a slow smile spread across his face. "That sounds like a fantastic idea."

HPHPHPHP

Hogwarts was closing. There was no choice at the moment. With the stone walls collapsing and the very fabric of the magic that were meant to hold together the enchantments throughout the castle disrupted or broken, there was no way the students could return safely.

But there was another problem, one that Harry knew was far worse for the future of the war and one that he didn't know how to fix at the moment. Harry was released from the hospital wing late Tuesday afternoon after he had woken up from the short but very refreshing nap that he had needed to take shortly after Daphne had gone back to the dungeons. It seemed he had only made it outside the door when he had been nearly accosted by an agitated Hermione who had started speaking to him at a mile a minute.

"Harry we can't trust them! The ideas they're proposing are more ridiculous by the minute, they must either be compromised by the Imperious or else they've been working with him all along, you can't do what they want Harry. It would be suicide!"

Naturally Harry had followed none of this but as the story had come out Hermione had explained that she had sat in with what should have been newly-appointed Headmistress, the meeting had taken a few very strange turns. The Ministry had wanted to instantly appoint a new Headmaster, citing that the Ministry needed to take firmer control over the school for the sake of safety. The man they had wanted to appoint, a Leonard Brown, hadn't seemed to have any spectacular qualifications outside of being a notorious Ministry sympathizer the like of which made it seem as though Dolores Umbridge might very well have found her soul mate him.

They had then wanted to ensure that all of the transport to bring the students back to the school would be handled by Ministry personnel. An offer that at first glance might seem innocent enough, but McGonagall had been quick to point out in the meeting that the school charter that had been set up long ago was designed so that the protective wards around private student's homes could not be breached by the Ministry unless the occupants of the residence were directly involved in a criminal investigation or crime. It had no doubt been one of those statues that had been designed by Purebloods to ensure that they were able to avoid close Ministry scrutiny but over the years had worked just as well to protect Muggleborns and other vulnerable populations from persecution. The directive ensured that only a direct representative from Hogwarts could pass through any protective enchantments set around a student's home and only for reasons _directly_ related to their education. The fact that the Ministry had suddenly become insistent that Hogwarts surrender this role to the Ministry rang several alarm bells.

Finally, according to Hermione there had been several none-to-subtle hints that despite the help that the vampires and werewolves had supplied them, they had evidence that the Dark Creatures were looking to turn on the alliance that they had formed with wizards and that they would be wise to make a pre-emptive strike against them. Harry would have liked to tell Hermione that she was being paranoid and that they had created a good enough alliance with the Ministry that they could count on their support, if no other reason than the fact that the Ministry had placed their entire publicity campaign to the public around working _with_ Harry.

Martin Tisdale had told him several months earlier, when Harry had been reluctant to get so entangled in Ministry politics in the first place, that even though Harry would be working with them and conceding a certain amount of autonomy, it was the _Ministry_ that was one dependent on the survival of their working relationship rather than Harry, and that gave Harry power. Harry could admit that he had not considered the full implications of such a statement when it had been said but he had learned a lot about how politics and favors worked and had realized that for the Ministry to turn on the person that they had invested so much time and energy into building up as the hero of the war could damage their image irreparably in the eyes of the public. But as much as knew how much it would hurt the Ministry to change its agenda, he also knew never to underestimate Hermione when she was certain about something.

"You think that the Ministry is trying to get information on the students and turn the magical creatures against us?" he had asked her and Hermione had nodded nervously.

The next two days had been extremely busy. Harry had spent most of his time meeting with the international delegates that had sent help for the battle. They were all very pleased with the victory that they had helped to support but every one of them had been none too subtle in the reminder that they had done Britain a great service and they would be collecting in the future. Harry found himself carefully avoiding agreeing anything other the proffered beverage that he was given at the start of each meeting and smiling as politely as possible while still making his own position- or really lack thereof- in his government clear, while still making it sound as though the fact that he could really promise them nothing concrete was irrelevant to their continued support. The result had left his cheeks aching from fake smiles and a feeling of being absolutely drained of all energy.

The feeling of emotional exhaustion was not at all helped by the fact that amidst in the increasing political chaos that was falling on his shoulders with the absence of both Dumbledore and Snape, he had had to offer a seemingly endless stream of condolences to the family members of those that had been killed in the battle. Many had been to family of strangers that Harry had never met and that had been awkward enough to try and find positive things to say about people he had never known, but he had also been forced to speak to far too many family members of people that he had known and liked personally. Classmates and Order members that had fought for Harry because he had asked and would now never see their families again. It was a humbling experience and one drove home the point that the illusion of safety that Harry had always had at Hogwarts, the feeling that the war couldn't reach the kids inside the castle walls, was now shattered forever.

While Harry struggled to juggle as many people as he could, the Dark Creatures were busy navigating the ups and downs of their fifteen minutes of fame. The vampires and werewolves had been celebrated in the hours after the victory and from what little Harry had gotten a chance to see, many of them seemed to be enjoying the after-effects of their heroic rescue of the imprisoned town but Harry had heard a enough disgruntled whispers to show that Hermione had been right about the Ministry agenda. Harry knew that he needed to warn Raymond and Dimitri but at present it was Thursday night and it was very late and for the first time since he had woken up properly from the battle he had a moment alone with best friend and that was the only person he wanted to speak to.

Ron had seemed to disappear for nearly a day before Harry had even managed to catch sight of him and even then it had only been a quick, rather distracted exchange as several people pulled his attention away. Harry had felt guilty ever since and he wasn't sure who had spoken to for the next hour, though he was fairly certain that he had expressed his condolences to one of the representatives from Sweden rather than a grieving family member. For his part, Ron had been quiet and seemingly distracted himself, distancing himself from both Harry and Hermione and preferring to sit alone with his own thoughts. Harry had given him some space as much from necessity of lack of time as out of respect but at long last they had the Common Room to themselves and were sitting by the fire. They had been quiet for some time when at last it was Harry that felt that the obvious needed to be said- or at least Ron needed to hear it.

"Ron mate...I'm sorry about Lavender, I know that you cared about her," Harry said quietly. "She was a great girl and I know that I probably didn't always give the two of you enough support..." he coughed uncomfortably as he remembered how he had not been thrilled about his best mate's dating choices when he had first started snogging the Gryffindor girl as though the two of them had just invented the idea.

"I'm not really sure how I felt about Lavender," Ron admitted quietly. "She was...I really didn't deserve her, Harry and now it's too late to let her know it."

Harry frowned at the guilt in his friend's voice. "You never hurt Lavender Ron, and what happened isn't your fault, if anyone's to blame it's me-"

"Shut it Harry, it's not your fault. The war isn't your fault and you can't go around claiming that anyone that dies only does for it you. That's rubbish, Lavender never did a damn thing she didn't want to do," he said with a slight grin. He let out a long sigh. "But I don't think I can say I never hurt her, Harry. Lav was really great to me- great _for_ me. She taught me a lot about how relationships work. She made me a better person and I don't think I ever really showed her how much I appreciate her outside of snogging. I know that I treated her like shite in the beginning. I was... it's was about..." Ron swallowed and looked away his face heating and Harry knew that there was a lot more bubbling beneath the surface for Ron than he was willing to share at the moment. "I feel like I took her granted, I didn't mean to...I just..."

"You couldn't have known what was going to happen Ron," Harry said bracingly but he felt that the words fell a bit flat. He let out a slow breath of his own and said the only thing he could think of at the moment, "Lavender taught you a lot about relationships...maybe this is the last thing she can teach you. That you should never take anyone that care about for granted because you never know what will happen. If you remember that, I think you'll always honor her memory."

Ron looked up at him in surprise before a slow smile spread across his face. "Yeah...yeah I reckon I can try to do that."

Harry nodded and winced as he asked, "how's Bill doing?"

Ron's face fell and his posture looked tired. "He's not fully paralyzed but its close. They don't think he'll ever fully recover and he'll never be able to run or ride a broom again, but with a lot of spells and something they're calling 'physiotherapy' he'll probably walk again. That's all the Healers will say at this point- probably."

Harry shook his head, "how's he taking the news?"

Ron rolled his eyes, "Bill is...Bill. He's calm, he's in control. He's trying to make everyone else feel better. I just hope that he really is as fine as he likes to pretend he is in front of everyone else."

"What about Fleur? How did she take the news?"

"Like a bloody champ. Woman didn't bat an eyelash and said that they would make it through together, that marriage was about one person carrying the weight when the other person couldn't bear the load alone. Mum's decided that she loves Fleur now and she and Bill are moving back to the Burrow. So...that's the good news I guess."

Harry grinned tired, stifling a yawn. "So," Ron said stretching out a bit on the sofa, "tomorrow, after the funeral, they're closing Hogwarts. You reckon that's a good idea?"

Harry shrugged, "not sure. From what I've heard over the last couple of days, I don't think we have much a choice and even if they did reopen the school...which I think the Ministry might wind up doing anyway, I don't think it would be safe for us to go to. The war...it's here and it's only going to get worse. I have to be ready..."

"Not by yourself you don't," Ron said suddenly fierce. "Hermione and I will won't let you just run off on your own!"

Harry gave his first genuine smile as he said, "never thought you would, mate. And besides, I'm too far in this to run off on my own anyway. I have the Dark Creatures depending on me and I'm the only thing keeping the international delegates still interested in helping us and if Hermione's is right and the Ministry is as bad off as we think...we'll need all the help we can get."

"So what's the plan?"

Harry sighed again, "go back to the Dursleys for now. I think...I'm closer to my aunt and my cousin and even my uncle than I've ever been before. I know that's not really saying much since up until this point we've most shared mutual distain for one another but I think that the wards will be stronger now than they were. The Order helped fix up the house and if I stay there, even for a little awhile, it should be safer."

"Are you sure mate? The last time you were there Death Eaters attacked!"

"Death Eaters that had never killed anyone, there aren't too many of those that exist anymore and even if Voldemort finds some new recruits, they attacked when the Dursleys and I weren't getting along. According to Dumbledore, the wards are fueled by the blood sacrifice. In the past it was in name only...I think it will be stronger this time. The Dursleys never took care of me the way that they should have but I've been thinking about something Martin Tisdale wrote to me a while back, about how I'm taking care of them as though I was a guardian. I think that should change things. Make the wards feel as though we're a real family instead of me just staying on with them."

Ron shook his head, "it's a lot to risk on a theory mate."

Harry shrugged even as he gave a sheepish smile, "that's how most of my plans work, haven't you noticed? Hoping something no one else would even try will work. Besides..." Harry shook his head. "Malfoy needs a place to stay and I reckon Privet Drive might be the best place for him at the moment."

Ron goggled at him. "Malfoy...and your relatives...oh Merlin that's going to be hilarious."

Harry snorted, "trust me the irony is not lost. I can't decide if I'm dreading it with every fiber of my being or I want to make sure that I have some popcorn for when Vernon and Draco get into over who truly is part of the master race."

"Only you mate," Ron said with a shake of his head. "You and Malfoy going to work on your rescue Snape mission?"

Harry nodded but didn't elaborate, thus far the only time Ron had shown an emotion other than numb grief had been the moment when Hermione had mentioned that Harry intended to go after the abducted Potions Master and Ron had been livid that Harry would put his life on the line for the man that had strived to make their lives miserable for years.

Ron paused a moment before saying, "be sure to work me into your plans."

"Really? I thought you felt that the 'greasy git should be able to fend for himself since he's made sure that no one could possibly give a damn about him.'"

Ron winced at the words he had thrown out in anger. "I don't like the idea of you risking your life for him, I'm not going to say I'm sorry for choosing you over him but...I reckon I can't have you and Malfoy run off together without me so if you're set on doing something to help, make sure you bring me with you. And best make sure Hermione is there too, that one is scary when she wants to be. Might as well aim her towards the Death Eaters and away from us."

Harry gave a tired laugh and in that moment he felt a swell of hope. Things were more uncertain now than they had ever been before, but as long as he had Ron and Hermione, he wasn't too worried about the future after all.

 **A/N: End of Harry Potter and the Awakening Power...to be continued in the sequel: tentatively named Harry Potter and The Wrath of the Dark Lord. So after a year and four months, half a million words and roughly 800 words doc pags, my first fanfic is officially over. I know it leaves off a bit unresolved but I felt that was true for Book 6 in canon as well. The sequel will be shorter than this one as it won't have as much set up of characters but the stakes are going to higher. Voldemort is out for blood and is going to be more unpredictable and more aggressive than we've seen. Much like in the Deathly Hallows, the sequel will take place at the height of the war, but unlike DH, Harry, Ron and Hermione will be much more center action. The Order will be more involved and we will see what has happened to poor Snape.**

 **Unfortunately, I will be taking a bit of a break before I actually start posting the sequel. I have another story that I want to dedicate my time to first and I need to work out a few things about the next story first...like a cohesive plot frame.**

 **Thank you all so much for all the reviews and advice I've gotten. I hope you all liked the story, typos and all. I hope many of you share how you felt about the ending and will pick up reading the sequel when it's ready. Until then, I wish you all the very best :)**


End file.
